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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168358">Oesterlé's Derealization Claim</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius'>sybilius</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Disco Elysium (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(but not really at all. disaster academics lmao), Academia, Academia Critique, Amnesia, An excess of riffs of canon mechanics, Board Games, Canon-Noncompliant Kineema, Canon-Typical Rating and Content, Canonical Game Style, Conference, Fluff Eventually :), Humor, Light Mathematics, Lots of fun facts, M/M, Mathematicians AU, Mild Workplace Bullying, Multi, Navier-Stokes, One Night Stands, Pale Lore, Pre-Polyamory Negotiations but god are they immediately gone on each other lol, Racism, Skills chatting it up, Slurs (cuno), Violently French Jean, abc conjecture, academia au, but generally has a lighter tone than canon, imposter syndrome, now there's a tag i never thought i would use in fanfiction and here we are</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:34:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>39,185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/pseuds/sybilius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>LIMBIC SYSTEM - An awareness creeps up on you. A mass lies hidden in your dead angle, soaking in some lurid, acidic sauce. There is nothing elegant, perfect, Diophantine about it. No insights spring from it. It’s bloated and shameful, the ball of meat surrounding you...This is a terrible line of questioning, and will only lead to more awareness of the meat-thing. </p><p> - (Plunge back into the fathomless deep)<br/>- No, I wanted to know about the ex-something.<br/><b>- Uh, what was that word that started with a D?</b></p><p>*</p><p>Dr. Harry Du Bois, unhinged genius mathematician, wakes up to a world that expects far, far more than the alphabet out of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Du Bois &amp; Kim Kitsuragi &amp; Jean Vicquemare, Harry Du Bois/Jean Vicquemare, Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Welcome to my very niche AU. This is exactly what's on the tin, a riff of Disco Elysium but if the leads were career mathematicians. A few remarks there:</p><p> - I promise this will not try to teach you any mathematics. At most, I'll try to tease out the statement of the abc conjecture in a way that tries to make sense, but don't worry about it. At best, I hope the capture the kind of struggle/ecstasy/murky but delightful efforts that I experienced when I did mathematics in my undergraduate. </p><p>- There will be a few winky niche jokes for the mathy folks in the audience. I'll explain them in the end notes if you care to know em :) </p><p>- I would like to bring attention to some cool and crazy characters the math world had (many of whom I think reflect interestingly on Harry!), so I won't be changing any mathematical figure's names in the story, to avoid confusion.</p><p>And a remark on the title; the abc conjecture, which sort of weaves in and out of this story is due to Oesterlé and Messer. I grabbed Oesterlé's name because it sounded the most Revachol-evoking. If anyone here misses the reference "Jamais Vu (Derealization)" is a thought you can internalize in the game. The themes of that thought are also relevant here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> There is nothing. Only warm, primordial blackness. Your consciousness ferments in it -- no larger than a single grain of malt. You don’t have to do anything anymore.</p><p>Ever.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Never ever ever?</li>
<li><b>- (Simply keep on non-existing.)</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> An inordinate amount of time passes. It is utterly void of struggle. No ex-wives are contained within it. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- This is great!</li>
<li>- Gimme some more.</li>
<li><b>- What was that about the *ex*-something?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM -</b> An awareness creeps up on you. A mass lies hidden in your dead angle, soaking in some lurid, acidic sauce. There is nothing elegant, perfect, Diophantine about it. No insights spring from it. It’s bloated and shameful, the ball of meat surrounding you...This is a terrible line of questioning, and will only lead to more awareness of the meat-thing. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- (Plunge back into the fathomless deep)</li>
<li>- No, I wanted to know about the ex-something.</li>
<li><b>- Uh, what was that word that started with a D?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> Intellectual games, high-minded shite that amounted to nothing. It is foolish of you to resurface to what you never had. Not after all the damage you suffered to get here, some of it irreversible… Stay, sail with me through the Abyssopelagic zone!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Allons-y! Never let me go!</li>
<li>- No, I want to get off now. I like pain and burning light and trying to prove myself.</li>
<li><b>- No-- wasn’t there a reason I...got here? Irreversible, yes, but something I was seeking...</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> Did you <em> really </em>believe that?</p><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM -</b> You wouldn’t like it if I told you what’s back there. Why do you think you willingly threw yourself at oblivion? Or did you not sense yourself -- bleeding into it, dispersing into vortices with so little sense to them? </p><p><b>SYNTHESIS [Challenging: Success] -</b> A creeping sense of grasping at vapor… you should ask what you were looking for. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Did I destroy myself?</li>
<li><b>- Tell me, what was I looking for?</b></li>
<li>- I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. It’s all shit.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM -</b> There’s a shadow-world. Can’t be touched, seen, tasted, smelled, but it’s everywhere. Nowhere. These evil apes, they connect to it, fight each other through it. Fight to describe it best, discover or create entire universes, shadows upon shadows upon shadows.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- How do I see the world if I can’t sense it?</b></li>
<li>- Did I create a universe?</li>
<li>- This isn’t answering my question. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> First things first, you had to chase down an animal. See where it was. Kill it by walking. It was vicious, but all the apes around you were walking too, hungry for the same <em> meat </em>. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Did I create a universe?</b></li>
<li>- This isn’t answering my question.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM -</b>Got a little lost in it, didn’t you? Shadows on cave walls, you believed had so much depth. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- This isn’t answering my question. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b>Answers, baby. Still asking for answers.</p><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM - </b>The part of the presentation you want to take home with you -- there were <em> no answers </em>. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- I don’t believe that. </b></li>
<li>- Okay. (Plunge back into the fathomless deep)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - </b> Somewhere in the sore, bloated man-meat around you -- *a sensation*! Like a fly to the ointment, your consciousness sticks to it. The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to breathe in so much dust, choke on it. Straining. Solitary. Dancing to disco music. </p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Success] -</b> This is worth it. There’s truth to be found. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Mother, help me, there’s a head attached to my neck and I’m in it!</li>
<li>- Please, no! Take me back to the formless, disembodied nothing!</li>
<li><b>- No, I am not scared. I am a harbinger of Truth. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM - </b>A fiery streak penetrates your skull, trying to force your eyes open. It’s a sound. A clarion call from hell. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You shuffle up to your feet, an ugly, no, completely destroyed motel room coming into your vision. Bottles litter the floor. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> Get disco! You need to find some more liquid inspiration. Stat. </p><p><b>YOU - </b>There’s a reel to reel tape player torn out, still spinning in the corner. You shuffle around, picking up pants that fit uncomfortably tight, a white satin shirt that is miraculously unstained, and a bright green blazer.</p><p>The necktie that spins ominously from the fan catches your eye. You pull the wrong cord, the bright light searing into your throbbing brain. You take several deep breaths. Then you switch off the fan, snatching the lurid and pulsating patterns close to you. </p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Medium: Success] -</b> The folding and twisting sets your teeth on edge, something whirring in the back of your mind. </p><p><b>PASSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> Manifold. Manifold. I know that word. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> A topological space that is second countable and locally homeomorphic to Euclidean space.</p><p><b>CLARITY [Medium: Success] -</b> Okay. A bunch of other words we’re supposed to “know”. Thanks. </p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Challenging: Success] - </b> A stack of maps comes to mind, each honing out to a small ball with a perfect grid on the surface. You catch the ball in your mind’s eye. It settles in your palm, comfortable as an unpeeled orange. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- What am I doing? </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD - </b> Something you've done before.</p><p><b>YOU - </b> “What the hell…” the words mumble out unbidden. You fumble at the doorknob, trying to straighten yourself up to face a world outside of the one in your head. </p><p>The scent of nicotine hits you before your eyes are able to catch up, taking in the dim sunlight filtering in through the windows. You're on a balcony indoors, above what might be a bar. A brass ashtray sits beside you, a crushed cigarette smoldering in it</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION - </b> That’s a reasonable stop-gap. Natural in your fingers as chalk.</p><p><b>YOU -</b> You pause, your mind skipping over that word. </p><p>“Hello, Doctor.” </p><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b> The young woman raises a cigarette to her lips.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “*Doctor*? Am I a medical professional?”</b></li>
<li>- Turn your bloated face away from her beauty and just keep on walking. [Leave.] </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b> “Not from the lengthy speech you gave me last night. Doctor of Philosophy.” She seems a little unamused. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Wait, so I’m a philosophy?”</b></li>
<li>- “What’s philosophy?”</li>
<li>- “What’s speech?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b>“Uh...no?”  she seems perplexed by your question. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “So why did you call me Doctor?"</b></li>
<li>- “Actually, this makes sense.” [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b>“You ...insisted on it actually. And then you didn’t. I’ve never met a mathematician before, so I didn’t really think too hard about it.”</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> Something about that word makes you stand a little bit straighter. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You know what, I do seem the right character for a mathematician.”</li>
<li><b>- “That’s insane. That couldn’t be me. Have you seen what I’m wearing?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b>She shrugs, “You were trying to explain to me what was on your tie. Calibrated-Yau manifolds? You kept saying it was telling you to treat it with more respect.”</p><p><b>HORRIFIC NECKTIE -</b> For all the damn good that did.</p><p><b>YOU -</b>You flinch slightly, staring at the tie.</p><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b> She takes another drag from the cigarette, her eyes glittering. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> She’s actually a little unsettled. You should leave her be.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Did you hear that? You heard that right?”</li>
<li><b>- “I should get going now.” [Leave]</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KLAASJE (ELEGANT LOT LIZARD) -</b> “See you probably never, Doctor,” her hips sway as she returns to her room. </p><p><b>YOU -</b>A peppy music fills your ears as you descend the stairs. A set of keys jingle in your pockets. When you fish them out at the base of the stairs you see the label <em> Whirling-in-Rags, #1 </em>on them. </p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION [Trivial: Success]- </b> It’s a room key. This is the Whirling-in-Rags. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You shuffle down the stairs, nausea from the alcohol overwhelming you. The circular mosaic of the floor sickens you to look at. You limp across the floor, entertaining some notion of getting some fresh air. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> As you approach the door leading out of the hostel, a bespectacled man wearing an orange bomber jacket turns to you: </p><p>“Excuse me. I believe you’re the person I’ve been waiting for.” He narrows his eyes and extends his hand in greeting.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success]-</b> No matter how winding or impenetrable the problem, the depths or rigor from which it was sourced, if you asked this man to stand by your side and walk you through it piece by piece until the understanding sifted its way into your breath, your lungs, and finally your oxygen-starved brain, he would help you. You are sure of this -- but why?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Hold on, who is he to me?</b></li>
<li>- Shake his hand.</li>
<li>- Don’t shake his hand.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>L’ACADEMIE -</b> Something you didn’t think possible, your trisection. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Hello, I’m Kim Kitsuragi,” his grip is firm, “I’m a Professor at the Cycle Universite, local organizer. I study algebraic number theory.”</p><p>You realize he is waiting for your introduction.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “My name is <em>Doctor </em>Raphael Ambrosius Cousteau.”</li>
<li><b>- “I don’t really know my name.”</b></li>
<li>- Say nothing. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Okay then,” he’s entirely not sure how to take this remark, “It looks like you missed the talks on Monday. Tuesday too, as far as I could tell. Have you had a chance to meet up with your postdoctoral fellow? He suspected you would be here.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “My post-what?”</li>
<li>- “I’m post-everything, actually.”</li>
<li><b>- “Doctor! I’m a doctor! Not the medical kind though.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b>“Yes. So am I, Dr. Du Bois.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Is that my name?”</li>
<li>- “Sorry, I don’t actually know what a post-fellow is, could you tell me?”</li>
<li><b>- [L’ACADEMIE: Impossible - RED] Give him *finger-guns* “Doctor buddies!”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><br/>
<strong>CHECK FAILURE</strong>
</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> The other doctor stares at you blankly. You continue to gesture helplessly. He continues to stare. You notice he is wearing gloves, dusted with white. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Is that my name?”</b></li>
<li>- “Sorry, I don’t actually know what a post-follow is, could you tell me?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Is that a joke?” he raises an eyebrow sharply under his thick glasses.</p><p><b>CITATION [Medium: Failure]-</b>Not acceptable. Flex your knowledge on him!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “What if I told you I’m not really a mathematician?”</b></li>
<li>- “How can you be so sure I’m post-doctor?”</li>
<li>- “No. I can’t remember anything.”</li>
<li>- “Yes, it’s a joke. I’m fine and definitely remember everything about mathematics. Like the Goldblum Conjecture.” (Lie).</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He adjusts his glasses, watching you carefully. Then he speaks.</p><p>“We all feel that way sometimes. There is no such thing as a *mathematician*, I’m afraid. We all start struggling with the abstract, things as distant now to us as addition and subtraction once were to a child. We are simply people, inclined to see beauty in the strangeness of particular and abstract problems, and who want to subject themselves to them. And we have those to tackle, many,” the gaze he meets you with is at once steely and...kind. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success]-</b> He wasn’t expecting this vulnerability from you. </p><p><b>PASSION -</b> At his words, something in you kindles, neurons firing with old lightning in spite of the dull ache in your head.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “How can you be so sure I’m post-doctor?”</b></li>
<li>- “But. I can’t remember anything.”</li>
<li>- “What are these problems?”</li>
<li>- “Let’s get going then.” (Move on)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “You are a full doctor, not postdoctoral. But you are quite well known within the field,” he frowns, his calm giving way to suspicion. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “So I’m some kind of superstar mathematician?”</li>
<li><b>- “I’m sorry I -- can’t remember anything.”</b></li>
<li>- “Never mind that. Let’s just solve some problems.”</li>
<li>- “A field in shambles, no doubt. Decimated.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I’m sorry, anything?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I don’t know what a post doctor is.”</li>
<li><b>- “I don’t know what an algebraic number theorist is.”</b></li>
<li>- “I don’t know what a number is.”</li>
<li>- “I know what the Goldblum conjecture is?” (Lie)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I can see that you’ve drank last night, and probably remain drunk. This is seeming more like a medical issue. Which is out of my jurisdiction. I can take you back to the university in my Kineema. Your post-doctoral fellow might be able to assist you.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He gestures to the door. When you walk out into the street, the cold hits you first. You look up. The sky is misty, cryptic above you. It’s threatening rain. You look over your shoulder. In the east, something prickles at your senses. You turn away sharply, looking to the curb out front in the lonely parking lot. A blue car sits in waiting.</p><p>You hear your companion let out a sharp gust of air. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success]-</b> He’s relieved -- bone deep relieved.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “...what you were expecting from me was worse than...?” Gesture with your hands at your head.</b></li>
<li>- “Sorry. Sorry again.”</li>
<li>- Say nothing. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He stares at you for a moment, piercing, “They said you do that. That you're unusually perceptive, for someone in the field."</p><p>He opens the car door. "I hope you're not lying. That would be cruel."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Am I cruel?”</li>
<li>- “I’m not lying."</li>
<li><b>- Sit in the passenger’s seat, don’t meet his eyes. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>The leather seats are soft to the touch, the interior clean and neat. The only evidence that it’s used is a light dusting of white on the steering levers. When he starts up the car, the engine purrs gently.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Success]-</b> This is a nicer car than most professors can afford, without tenure. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- What’s tenure?</b></li>
<li>- Can I afford it?</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION  -</b> Well, what does it sound like to you?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- A pyramid scheme. </li>
<li>- An outdated monarchy that entrenches power. </li>
<li>- A meritocracy.</li>
<li><b>- The only reason I still have my job. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PROFESSOR [Impossible: Failure] -</b>  :-( </p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Trivial: Success]-</b> You really shouldn’t annotate important documents to peers and students with sad faces.</p><p>
  <b>MORALE -1 </b>
</p><p><b>YOU - </b> You shake yourself out of your reverie, noticing the city fly by you. Your companion hasn’t said a word since. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success]-</b> He’s concerned you’ll do something erratic. You should make conversation. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “So. What is it that we’re supposed to be solving.”</b></li>
<li>- “I think you should know that I can’t remember *anything*.”</li>
<li>- “Uhm. I want to talk about *you*.”</li>
<li>- Just look out the car window.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> "Does the phrase 'abc conjecture' ring any bells to you?"</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- "Not at all."</li>
<li>- "Like a theory of numbers but for the alphabet?"</li>
<li><b>- [Conjecture Legendary 18: RED] Pull something out of your ass. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <strong>CHECK FAILURE</strong>
</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Legendary: Failure] -</b> Ah, my namesake, my dear boy! Yes, the letter a, elegant, primary -- the letter b following it, and then a trifecta, obscured by something unspeakable, untouchable. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- "It's a theory on the entroponetics of letters."</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> His eyes flicker from the road and back to you.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Failure]-</b> Uh, by me, maybe ask him what he means?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “It is. I know this. I have a conjecture in my soul.”</li>
<li>- “No?”</li>
<li><b>- “What’s that supposed to mean?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> "I'm sorry to say none of those words make any sense together."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Oh.”</li>
<li><b>- Insist that they do.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> “Yes, they do.” </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “They do not.”</p><p>He turns a corner, crossing over a bridge with an ugly, polluted river. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>“What is it that we’re supposed to be solving, again?”</li>
<li><b>“I think you should know that I can’t remember *anything*.”</b></li>
<li>"Uhm. I want to talk about *you*.”</li>
<li>Just look out the car window.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Yes. I don’t see what your reputation would gain from lying there.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> He believes you are the one that has far more to lose.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> Dr. Jean Vicquemare, pacing with vicious intent back and forth in front of a blackboard covered with words, arrows, esoteric symbols. He attempts to add something with a cigarette, rather than a piece of chalk, swearing as it burns his fingertips. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I don’t remember what a post-doctor is either.”</b></li>
<li>- “Do you think I’ll remember it?”</li>
<li>- “Do you think people remember me?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “A post-doctoral fellow is a doctor who assists a more experienced researcher with their work. So they are themselves independent, but they are still in a close relationship with a mentor figure."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I must be a superb mentor to this post-doctor. Astronomical.”</li>
<li>- “They let me do that? I feel bad for my post-doctor.”</li>
<li>- “Ah yes, the transmission of knowledge via apprenticeship, a time-honored practice.”</li>
<li>- “Does this mean I’m experienced? I suppose I am experienced.”</li>
<li><b>- “Mentorship is meaningless in the face of the impending swallow.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “It isn’t,” his voice is sharp. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “What do you mean?”</b></li>
<li>- “No, it is. I’ve seen it. </li>
<li>- Say nothing. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “You -- I’m not going to get into this. If anything, you should be the one taking my position. And historically, you have,” his forehead crinkles with concern. You feel the hair on your neck stand up. </p><p><b>DEBATER [Trivial: Success] -</b> Don’t push this shit. You’re not ready to hear it. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Challenging: Success] -</b> Hell, was anyone ready? It was go time, baby! We got it!</p><p><b>CLARITY [Trivial: Success] -</b> What we <em> got </em> was nothing but mangled tripe where our mind is supposed to be. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What is it that we’re supposed to be solving, again?”</li>
<li>- “I think you should know that I can’t remember *anything*.”</li>
<li>- “I want to talk about *you*.”</li>
<li><b>- Just look out the car window.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> The rain has started to pick up, pattering gently on the roof. Your colleague shifts the gears of the car smoothly, the environment soothing to your pulsing headache. You press your head against the glass. Your breath fogs up the window.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- [Conceptualization: Medium RED] Draw something in the fog. </b></li>
<li>- [Symbolic Language: Legendary RED] Explain this entroponetic alphabet conjecture to yourself using pictures. </li>
<li>- Continue to lose yourself in thought. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>YOU -</b> Your hands trace out a simple form. Five points, then framed by five more. A star, housed comfortably in a pentagon. The rain asks you: What is this?</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Failure] -</b> It’s a symbol of devil-worship. Followers of Mephistopheles and young people with something to prove scrawl it on everything. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Kim, am I a follower of Mephistopheles?’</b></li>
<li>- “Hey, check this out!”</li>
<li>- Draw a small devil with horns next to it.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm. Sorry?” </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You gesture at the drawing.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> His eyes flicker over it, “Ah. No. That’s a Petersen Graph. It comes up in a surprising number of problems, and is a key piece in the field of graph theory. Probably something you remember.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Graph. Like the x and the y lines?”</b></li>
<li>- “Graph theory. Am I a graph theorist?”</li>
<li>- “Okay.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “No, no -- more like nodes, connected by edges. It’s simpler than what you’re describing,” he considers this statement for a moment, “From some angles.”</p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Challenging: Success] -</b> Certainly. There’s quite a bit of depth in those peculiar little sketches. They lift naturally off the page into a world of criss-crossing connections, suggesting an ever more intricate underlying structure that you can lift, reposition, drape like a tapestry over any number of imperceptible ideas. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b>To be perfectly honest, I felt better off thinking about the x and y thing.</p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Well. You would. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Good. That other one sounded boring as hell, anyways."</b></li>
<li>- “Oh. Darn, the letters x and y mean a lot to me.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He surprises you with a bark of a laugh. When you look at him, he shakes his head, “You’re right. Very right.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success]-</b> It’s nice to hear him laugh, even if it’s a bitter one. Something other than smooth calm and tense concern. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<ol>
<li>- “What is it that we’re supposed to be solving, again?”</li>
<li>- “I think you should know that I can’t remember *anything*.”</li>
<li><b>- “Uhm. I want to talk about *you*.”</b></li>
<li>- Just look out the car window.</li>
</ol>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “There’s nothing to talk about.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> This time, you detect a note of sadness in his voice. Tread carefully. Let him pick the topic.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You could tell me about your...work? Maybe it’ll jog something.”</b></li>
<li>- “It can be anything. Tell me something about your life.”</li>
<li>- “Okay, I guess you’re one of those boring bino mathematicians. Whatever.” [Move on]</li>
<li>- “Okay.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “There is -- <em> nothing </em> to talk about.”</p><p><b>CITATION [Easy: Success] -</b> You’ll hurt his pride if you push this angle. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Medium: Success]-</b> An old memory stirs, constellations of points gathered up and compared by height. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- [Algebra: Challenging - WHITE] Try to remember something about the name Kitsuragi...</b></li>
<li>- “It can be anything. Tell me something about your life.”</li>
<li>- “Okay, I guess you’re one of those boring bino mathematicians. Whatever.” [Move on]</li>
<li>- “Okay.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>CHECK FAILURE</strong>
</p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Challenging: Failure] -</b> The definitions evade you. You’re not going to find what you’re looking for in his face. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- [Algebra: Challenging - WHITE - LOCKED] Try to remember something about the name Kitsuragi...</li>
<li>- “It can be anything. Tell me something about your life.”</li>
<li>- “Okay, I guess you’re one of those boring bino mathematicians. Whatever.” [Move on]</li>
<li><b>- “Okay.” [Move on]</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague taps his fingers against the gearshift, leaving a trail of dust there. The road winds ever further from where you were staying, until he finally pulls up in the shadow of a grey, hulking building, its windows like an ominous grid.</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Success]-</b> The building style is an homage to Graadian mathematicians, back when this particular style was in vogue. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Are you ready? This is where the conference is.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “It looks ugly.”</li>
<li>- “I’m scared.”</li>
<li><b>- “Well. Let’s go get <em>disco.</em>”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Calibration - Yau manifolds are a reference to Calabi-Yau Manifolds, which you may have run into if you know Brian Greene's writing on string theory. They're very lovely to look at. https://vimeo.com/81756249 </p><p>Harry's subconsciousness giving him the "Goldblum conjecture" is a joke. The actual problem is the "Goldbach Conjecture". </p><p>Algebra and Analysis are considered the main "divide" in pure mathematics (so they'll snipe at each other a little throughout :) ). Harry also has some applications-inclined skills but they're not chatty (yet). </p><p>I would like to throw a shoutout to <a href="https://yan-may-fire.tumblr.com/post/641949190857031680/jean-vicquemare-but-make-it-leyendecker">this art by Yan-May-Fire</a>; which is 110% how you should picture Jean in this AU. </p><p>And as to the ending -- every university has to have a Brutalist building somewhere, and honestly? I'm a little fond :) </p><p>I've got a full sheet for Mathematician!Harry's skills and how they map over all of canon!Harry's skills. I'll save the reveal for them till the end, but I will give you the new skill categories that I shuffled them into! </p><p>INT - Intelligence, background knowledge of mathematics field<br/>ABSTR - Abstraction, ability to make creative connections in order to get results<br/>COMM - Communication, ability to communicate in your field and outside it<br/>CALC - Calculation, ability to respond to challenges. </p><p>These categories do not correspond exactly to canon -- in particular PHYS doesn't really have an equivalent; so COMM sort of replaces it. A few of Harry's skills I just imported wholesale (hi hello there Conceptualization), there will be reasons for that later</p><p>You can always ask me about the skills or anything else if you're curious. And hey, if you're a mathy-inclined person and I've misrepresented a detail, feel free to gently DM me about it :) Comments and delights here are super welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>:) ! </p><p>This chapter has fun with Cuno, but also was a bit skin-crawling for me to write cause it leans on imposter syndrome for a bit; so you know brace yourself for that. </p><p>For those familiar with some aspects of conference culture/mathematics culture...I'm leaning a bit more into certain more toxic academic environments; which feel worse when you're an outsider. Though I haven't super made Harry's field clear yet, I will remark that some pure mathematics fields are a little...snooty about liking the idea that their work is without application.</p><p>As always, there will be a lore-dump on the math refs at the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING -</b> As the glass door shuts on the rain behind, you take in the interior. It’s well-lit, opening into an impressive vestibule with corridors extending in three directions, a large door to a lecture hall to your left. Your eyes linger on the tarnished printed brass with the name stamped into it. </p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] -</b> Mercator was an Oranjese mathematician who worked on a peculiar set of projections for spherical map-making. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS [Easy: Success] -</b> A simplification of Elysium’s geometry, but a vastly appealing one. His efforts prioritized navigation, tracking along lines of constant direction. </p><p><b>APPLICATION [Trivial: Success]-</b> His work was badly needed.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Needed for what?</b></li>
<li>- I don’t need this [Discard thought]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DEBATER [Medium: Failure] -</b> To wit, <em> you </em> have no need to engage in this particular concrete explanation. Stay in the world of the abstract! The comforting! The well-defined. </p><p><b>APPLICATION -</b> Excuse me while I roll my eyes. </p><p><b>STAMINA -</b> He’s right. I have to insist you see this through. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- I don’t think I need reality to do mathematics. Do I?</b></li>
<li>- All right, what do I have to do?</li>
<li>- I definitely don’t need this, and it’s kind of scary [Discard thought]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>APPLICATION -</b> Whether you acknowledge it or not, what you understand and consider is informed by the world you’re living in. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> That’s true.</p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> That’s <em> definitely </em> true. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Nice to agree sometimes. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- I’ll try to reach for what I know about the world. (Opt in)</b></li>
<li>- I don’t need reality. All I need is my superstar genius brain. (Opt out)</li>
<li>- Actually, I don’t want to remember anything about the world. Clearly this amnesiac state is an improvement (Opt out)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>Thought gained: </b>Holomorphic World Schema</p><p><b>Internalize thought: </b>1h 30 m</p><p><b>YOU -</b> While you squint a little too long at names that should be familiar, your stomach growls audibly. Your eyes land on a table in the corner,  piled high with sweet-smelling pastries, fruit, and two black carafes, steaming slightly. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> We need that, actually. Coffee, theorems, you know the drill. </p><p><b>CLARITY [Medium: Failure] -</b> “Theorem”. We don’t actually know that drill. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Immediately tear into the snacks.</li>
<li><b>- Look to Kim for guidance. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He follows your gaze, then shrugs, “Go ahead. They should be halfway through the first talk, and I don’t think it will be useful for us to go in now.”</p><p><b>WELL-STOCKED REFRESHMENT TABLE -</b> The bright orange-colored pastries call to you most of all. You grab a few of those on a paper plate, and then your hands do most of the work fixing your coffee. You efficiently tear open three sacks of sugar and a generous helping of cream. </p><p>Around the corner, your eyes catch on a short figure, a flash of bright orange hair. Someone skulking around the refreshments. </p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Cuno’s got this,” the boy muttering to himself can’t be older than twelve.</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] -</b> If there was ever such thing as an ugly kid, this is it. He’s almost exquisite in his ugliness. Like a gremlin.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> Excuse me, a child of that age? In this institution? What’s he doing here?</p><p><b>TOY MODEL [Challenging: Success] -</b> Believe it or not, he’s spun from the same stuff. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Hey kid, what are you doing here? This is a university.”</li>
<li><b>- “Hey kid, you a mathematician?”</b></li>
<li>- “Hey kid, you want some snacks?”</li>
<li>- I’m just going to ignore him [Leave.]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> The kid startles, like he didn’t notice you were there. His pupils are wide as dimes. He leans in conspiratorially, and then near yells in your ear, “Can’t talk, Eggman. Shit’s coming up *strong*. Cuno’s riding the lightning.”</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Easy: Success] -</b> Spun from the same stuff, strung out on the same stuff -- you should see what this kid knows, get some of that juicy *shit*.</p><p><b>YOU -</b> Juicy what now?</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION -</b> I mean drugs. The kid’s on drugs. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Take a sip of your coffee and turn to Kim.</b></li>
<li>- “Why are you at this conference, kid?”</li>
<li>- “Kid! Do you have drugs! I think I might use drugs actually.”</li>
<li>- I should see what this kid can do.</li>
<li>- Actually, I need to focus on this conference [Leave.]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague frowns at your interaction with the gremlin, pouring himself a cup of coffee, this one black. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I think this child is a mathematician.”</b></li>
<li>- “I think this child is not supposed to be here.”</li>
<li>- “I think this child is a delinquent who should be removed.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He coughs in his coffee, “I’m sorry, what?” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You will see.”</b></li>
<li>- “Never mind.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Okay. The second talk is in 20 minutes though, and I will be going to see it.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> He actually thinks that talk will be mediocre. He just doesn’t want to see you make a fool of yourself with an angry child. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Take a sip of your coffee and turn to Kim.</li>
<li>- “Why are you at this conference, kid?”</li>
<li>- “Kid! Do you have drugs! I think I might use them.”</li>
<li><b>- I should see what this kid can do.</b></li>
<li>- Actually, I need to focus on this conference [Leave.]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> “Look, Cuno? Lemme show you something.”</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> He stares at you blankly, his hand on a pastry like he’s about to commit the world’s most obvious theft. “Alright.” He juts his chin out, “Entertain The Cuno! Show me whatcha got. Whatcha got there? Whatcha got, huh?”</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] -</b>Actually, this was probably a bad idea. The kid yelling is attracting attention. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You lead him over to one of the empty blackboards in the wall. He shuffles beside you, gnawing on a pastry, the flakes sticking to his freckled cheeks. You sense other eyes on you, footsteps behind you, but you ignore that for now. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Draw the devil-peter graph on the board.</li>
<li><b>- [Toy Model: Challenging - WHITE] Reach for a problem that’s suitable for a kid.</b></li>
<li>- Write “(x+y)<sup>2</sup> = x<sup>2</sup> + y<sup>2</sup>” on the board. </li>
<li>- Write “MATH IS FOR BINOCLARDS” on the board.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>YOU -</b> Your eyes catch on a few pieces of colored chalk, the red sparking at your eyes in a funny way. You scrawl down the shape of a four-pointed, three dimensional object, even sides. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “If you have three colors on this box-thing, how many different boxes can you make with it?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CALCULATOR [Medium: Success] -</b> 57. </p><p><b>CUNO -</b> The gremlin squints at your drawing. It’s not very good. “Fuck does Cuno care about a box-thing?” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- [Mentor: Legendary- WHITE] Find a creative angle to convince him to care about the problem.</b></li>
<li>- [Citation: Godly - WHITE] Use your authority as a math-doctor to convince him to care about the problem</li>
<li>- Give up and get more pastries.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Look, imagine you’re playing dice -- you want to know how many different games you could play if you had three colors to make different dice with.”</b></li>

</ol>
</blockquote><b></b><p>
  <b></b>
</p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> This actually is a terrible way to describe the problem. Nothing to do with it. </p><p><b>MENTOR -</b> Hush, I know what I’m doing.  </p><p><b>CUNO -</b> Something sparks in his hopped-up eyes, “So I can cheat? Loading dice for the Cuno.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Lean in like you’ve got a secret. “Yeah, that’s what this is really about.”</b></li>
<li>- Nod seriously.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> He frowns, taking another vicious bite of the pastry. But he’s actively turning over the problem at least. </p><p>The footsteps come closer. </p><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> One of the men is wearing an orange and green checked suit jacket. His red hair is almost greasy, freckles on his cheeks making him look younger. He’s sizing you up like he knows you.</p><p><b>BALDING PROFESSORIAL TYPE -</b> The other man has white hair and wears a heavy-rimmed pair of glasses. The lines on his forehead run deep. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> He looks the part of *mathematician* in every way -- save for the lack of chalk dust on his dark brown pants. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> This man’s fingers run rapidly over radio-computations, turning over ever cleverer-ways to calculate flows, a problem as simple to observe as the water flowing in rivulets along his window. Beside him, a mechanical device turns an hourglass of quicksilver over and again, and again. It is a calming space. Everything in its place. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> People might respect you more if you kept your office that neat. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Wait, I have an office?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>L’ACADEMIE -</b> Of course, sir. </p><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> “Well look what the dog coughed up. How’s it going <em> ‘Math God’ </em>?”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> That’s sarcasm. Any respect this man has for you is deeply begrudging.</p><p><b>BALDING PROFESSORIAL TYPE -</b> “Du Bois, you son of a gun. Where have you been keeping this week? Actually, better not tell us -- what are you going to tell us about on Friday?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I’m teaching this child mathematics. You know, one rockstar to another.”</b></li>
<li>- “I went on a two-day bender and lost my memory. I am now able to connect to the impending apocalypse and reach superior reasoning.”</li>
<li>- “Sorry, who are you?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>BALDING PROFESSORIAL TYPE -</b> He looks from Cuno to you. Cuno has titled his head sideways at the terrible drawing on the board. “Sure, du Bois. You’re a regular Lambeau. Cut the crap and tell us what you’re going to talk about.”</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> Lambeau refers to a fictional professor who recognized mathematical genius in a janitor. It’s a popular feel-good radio drama. </p><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> “Come on, he’s just trying to wriggle out of saying it. God knows it’ll just be hot air again.”</p><p><b>CITATION [Trivial: Success] -</b> DEFEND YOURSELF. Immediately. They’re talking down to you. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “It’ll be about advanced entroponetic...manifolds.”</b></li>
<li>- “Ha, ha, like you guys make your slides in advance of the night before.”</li>
<li>- “I don’t remember anything. Better that you don’t expect anything.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> The red headed man snorts audibly, “God, you really have cracked. Good luck with that shite.”</p><p><b>BALDING PROFESSORIAL TYPE  -</b> “Harry -- this isn’t going to be *another* rant on entroponetic studies again, you know that’s not what we came for. It’s not appropriate how …. personal it is for you.”</p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Failure] -</b> What? Our interest in the entroponetic field has nothing to do with our ex-something! Why would he *say* that?</p><p><b>CALCULATOR [Easy: Success] -</b> No ex-something was mentioned.</p><p><b>STAMINA [Medium: Success] -</b> Yeah, keep it that way. </p><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> “Come on Nix, let him burn through his last shot. Dr. Sober has<em> got this </em>.”</p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> :-( :-( :-( </p><p><b>STAMINA [Legendary: Failure] -</b> You really, truly do not have this. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You have to bite your lip to keep from stuttering. You feel a lump rising in your throat, forcing your eyes to stay open. They’re going to find out, <em> you don’t belong here </em>. </p><p>
  <b>MORALE -1 </b>
</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm. I happen to be looking forward to Dr. Du Bois’ talk, having heard about it on our drive in.”</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Easy: Failure] -</b> Yes, our -- wait, we talked about what now? When?</p><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> His freckled brow knits into a cruel frown, “Do I know you?”</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Fuckin’ A, f*ggots. Cuno’s got something to say!” the boy bursts out with a yell, causing everyone to jump, “Cuno’s cracked this dice game, right open--”</p><p><b>BALDING PROFESSORIAL TYPE -</b> He takes a step back, his brow furrowing deeply, “I’m sorry, who is this -- “</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “It’s fifty-seven, egghead.”</p><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> “Wha--”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>“Ka-ching. Nice work Cuno.” </b></li>
<li>Turn to the two men, “How do you like <em>that.”</em>
</li>
<li>Say “Correct.” as seriously as you can.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> The kid seems to both attempt to do a fist pump and stay cool at the same time and simply violently twitches his left arm. Or maybe that’s the drugs. </p><p><b>BALDING PROFESSORIAL TYPE  -</b> “Was this -- a Burnside’s Lemma problem?” </p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Trivial: Success] -</b> Yes! Knew I liked the look of this. Just needed to take the cubes out of it. Talk him through the definition of a group. Go for the proof!</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> Let’s not get too excited. But yeah, the kid got it. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “As you can see, this child is clearly destined to be a mathematics rockstar.”</b></li>
<li>- “Yes, and I’m sure I could get him to prove it with a few more minutes. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> “du Bois, that doesn’t mean shit. Quit fooling around.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> The muffled sound of applause carries from the other room. “Lingering here would be fooling around. Come on. The next talk is about to begin.”</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Yeah, Cuno won. Cuno beat the box-thing,” the boy takes another pastry, but still looks to you. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You watch the two men you don’t recognize shrug their shoulders and shuffle towards the door. However your snakeskin-print shoes are still rooted to the floor.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Who were those guys, Kim?”</li>
<li>- “Why were they so...mean?”</li>
<li>- “Thanks for backing me up.”</li>
<li><b>- [Mentor - Medium - RED] Convince Cuno to join you. (+1, told him it was about gambling)</b></li>
<li>- Throw your coffee cup out and prepare to go in (Proceed). </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>“Hey, since you’re quick on the draw with this, wanna stick around for this talk and lunch?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> “The Cuno likes. Want more of that egghead shit.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b> Actually, you had him at lunch, but you might be able to talk him into more math later.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Who were those guys, Kim?”</b></li>
<li>- “Why were they so...mean?”</li>
<li>- “Thanks for backing me up.”</li>
<li>- Throw your coffee cup out and prepare to go in (Proceed). </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I think Dr. Gottlieb is an emeritus professor at your institution?” he pauses, watching your confusion, “The older one. Grey hair. I don’t know the other one by sight, though he seems to know you.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Who were those guys, Kim?”</li>
<li><b>- “Why were they so...mean?”</b></li>
<li>- “Thanks for backing me up.”</li>
<li>- Throw your coffee cup out and prepare to go in (Proceed). </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Why indeed,” he says dryly, glancing at the door to the lecture hall, “I’m not going to get into that.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Who were those guys, Kim?”</li>
<li>- “Why were they so...mean?”</li>
<li><b>- “Thanks for backing me up.”</b></li>
<li>- Throw your coffee cup out and prepare to go in (Proceed). </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Don’t mention it,” he says softly, “I doubt it did much good anyways.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>Throw your coffee cup out and prepare to go in (Proceed). </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL -</b> You follow Kim into the imposing double doors to a room with three tiered rows of chairs, with a long table in front of them. The blackboard up front is covered with symbols. A wizened old man with dark hair, holding a cigar is cleaning the board. You watch the man Kim called Gottlieb nod to him respectfully. </p><p><b>WIZENED MAN -</b> He stares at you for a moment as you pass with Kim, then his brow crinkles with confusion when he sees Cuno. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Give him *finger-guns*.</b></li>
<li>- Do nothing. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>WIZENED MAN -</b> The confusion on his brow further deepens, but he makes a sort of haphazard wave back. </p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> An oily-haired, huge man jostles through the crowd with enthusiasm. Sweat shines on his forehead. His eyes are beady, bug-like yet hungry behind huge glasses.</p><p>“Dr. Du Bois! Evrart Claire. Thrilled to see you joining for my talk, if you’d like to take this front row seat, I assure you there will be <em> many </em> opportunities for questions.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Questions?”</li>
<li>- “Certainly.”</li>
<li><b>- [Citation: Challenging - RED] Do not allow yourself to be led to the very uncomfortable looking front row.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>YOU -</b> “I don’t *sit*. It’s kind of my thing.”</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Fuckin’ RIGHT! F*ggots take it standing up.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “No, we *will* sit for the talk. Quietly,” he raises an eyebrow, stony-faced to Cuno. </p><p><b>CUNO -</b> The gremlin appears to consider shouting more slurs, but seems to respect the Eyebrow that Kim appears to be employing to keep him in thrall. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> He’s thinking about the fact that you promised him lunch. Same as before. </p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> “Well as you can see, the front row, with its three seats free, is the ideal place for you and your… colleagues. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>“Right, well, that’d be disco.”</b></li>
<li>Just walk sullenly to the front row. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You take a seat, Cuno beside you and Kim beside him. The chairs are just as uncomfortable as you expected. Worse yet, when you turn around, not only are several eyes fixed on you with curiosity, there are also three perfectly comfortably looking chairs available in the middle of the room.  </p><p><b>SPARSELY POPULATED FIRST SLIDE -</b> The room goes dark. A distinctive click sounds from the center of the room. The words “CHAOS REIGNS IN SUPERSYMMETRIC BREAKDOWN OF THE KINEMATIC DYNAMO” </p><p><b>CLARITY [Medium: Success] -</b>  Don’t be fooled by the exciting words. That title confuses more than it communicates. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> Chaos...I think that’s me. Chaos theory. Differential equations that are extremely sensitive to initial conditions. Not our favourite topic of course, but it keeps things going. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Symmetry, though. That’s my domain. Flips and turns, transformations after which </p><p><b>APPLICATION  -</b> Pretty sure “kinematic” is me. </p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> It’s all of you. But my point is made mostly by “reigns”. Lordy. </p><p><b>TOY MODEL -</b> I think it’s kind of fun. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Easy: Success] -</b> In the back of the lecture hall, several of your colleagues grumble and shift in their chairs. Use of a vector-screen projector is considered showy, not to mention expensive. Most of these talks would use slide projectors, or simply blackboard-only. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Which am I?</li>
<li><b>- I probably use a vector projector, don’t I.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CLARITY -</b> You’re blackboard. You improvise. It sometimes gets you places.
</p><p>
  <b>
    <b></b>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b></b>
</p><p><b>REPARTEE [Medium: Success] -</b> Once, you even teased out a new application of Zorn's Lemma on the fly and made it look like you intended it. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> Sorry, what's this Zorn's thing about?</p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION [Medium: Success] -</b> Oh, who can tell? You're better off thinking about picking marbles from bags, if you ask me.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><strong>- That's not helpful.</strong></li>
<li>- Okay. (Try really hard to think of marbles in bags...what does this mean?).  </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION  -</b> $\forall $ indexed families $\left(S_{i}\right)_{i \in I}$ for $S \neq \{ \} \exists$ an indexed family of \textit{elements} $\left(x_{i}\right)_{i \in I}$ such that $x_{i} \in S_{i}$ for every $i \in I$. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You shake your head, trying to focus back on the incomprehensible ramble in front of you rather than what your overclocked brain keeps providing. </p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> You’ve missed the first slide of flashy graphics, and already you’re lost. The haze of definitions floats through your mind. They slide through your consciousness, catching on nothing.  </p><p><b>EXTREMELY CONVOLUTED SLIDE -</b> There manage to be three equations and one diagram, with several colors mapping out different sections in it and many lines, hypnotic and close to overlapping on it. It’s like a thumbprint. It’s like a spider’s web. </p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Challenging: Failure] -</b> It’s like...nah, I got nothing. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You feel yourself sliding down the chair, sweat beading on your forehead. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Try to sit up.</li>
<li><b>- Continue sliding. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> You feel a sharp elbow dig into your ribs. “Hey EGG. What’s wrong with you?” as a ‘hushed whisper’, it’s way louder than it should be. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Kim frowns, putting a finger to his lips and sliding a pad of paper to Cuno. </p><p><b>CUNO -</b> The kid frowns, then figures it out. He draws an unflattering caricature of Evrart. This heartens you somehow. He scribbles MOR DIE TRICKS? In the corner of the page. </p><p>
  <b>MORALE +1 </b>
</p><p><b>YOU -</b> The time clicks by as you doodle the box-thing again, prompting Cuno for how he arrived at the number 57. His diagrams are worse than yours, but you’re able to piece through how he shaved off at least some of the rotations. </p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL -</b> Before you know it, applause starts to sound around you. You join in enthusiastically to cover the fact that you have no idea what the last half-hour of the talk was at all. </p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> “Are there any questions?” he is met with silence and shifting in seats, “Any at all? Dr. Du Bois, perhaps?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I thought it was fine. No comment.”</li>
<li><b>- “I thought it was great. Super. Best talk I’ve heard in a while.”</b></li>
<li>- “I thought it was garbage.”</li>
<li>- “Sorry, I didn’t pay attention at all.”</li>
<li>- [Conjecture: Challenging - RED] Distract them with an idea of your own. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> The man’s eyebrows disappear into the folds of his forehead, “Truly? So you agree with me on supersymmetry giving mathematicians genuine insights into abstract algebra?”</p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Trivial: Success] -</b> Whoa there, let’s not be too hasty. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I was being sarcastic. It was trash.”</li>
<li><b>- “To be honest, that could use a little more clarity. Maybe we could talk about it over coffee?”</b></li>
<li>- “Actually I lost my memory and I am definitely talking out of my ass right now.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL -</b> A murmur of whispers circle through the room. Some people cough. You might even hear a small gasp. </p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> “You heard the man. Coffee, then! And I’ll tell Dr. Du Bois more about my work.”</p><p><b>TALL AND INTIMIDATING MAN -</b> A bald, muscled man wearing suspenders stands up, “Hey, du Bois, I’m interested in this *coffee talk* too.” He smirks. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] -</b> He knows you. Expects better from you. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> Do *not* engage….do *not*. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Nod seriously. </li>
<li>- Walk as quickly as possible from the room.</li>
<li><b>- [Physical Maintenance - Challenging- RED] Run from the room. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>HORRIFIC NECKTIE -</b> Let’s bail! Time to push the EJECT button. Sounds like you got something *wrong*. You hate that!</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE [Challenging: Failure] -</b> One moment you’re running like the wind, then you’re suddenly turned around and are giving this man the finger. With both hands. Why?!</p><p><b>WIZENED MAN - </b>“WATCH OUT!!”</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE -</b> Everything goes dark. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The first reference was a softball, but if you haven't come across the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mercator_projection">Mercator Projection</a> it's a very common map projection! Its best strengths are for navigation (which I imagine was SUPER useful for navigating a sphere-like world surrounded by toxic haze...), though it does have major distortion issues when it comes to our world. </p><p>"Holomorphic" is a word describing particularly nice complex functions. Would we be so lucky for the functions that describe the world to be holomorphic...</p><p> “(x+y)^2 = x^2 + y^2” is not true unless you're working modulo 2, but it is jokingly referred to as "the freshman's dream" sometimes :) </p><p> </p><p>You probably guessed if you've seen it that the interaction with Cuno is a bit of a Good Will Hunting riff, and I decided to make that a story that exists in canon too (See Gottlieb's remark about "a regular Lambeau" heh). </p><p>I probably wouldn't give a Burnside's Lemma problem to a kid, or at least not without a way, way better explanation than what Harry gave there, heh. I was kind of leaning into the Good Will Hunting parts for that kind of fantasy. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burnside%27s_lemma">You can read more about it if you're curious though</a>. It really does have absolutely nothing to do with dice, I was making a small joke about how sometimes motivations for mathematical problems can be strained. Maybe you know what I mean dear reader ;)</p><p>Gottlieb studies fluid dynamics! That might come up again but I wanted to remark on it anyways :) </p><p>Evrart's talk IS a real topic; though in spite of the tough crowd here in my mind his talk wasn't a very good one. No shade to the field of supersymmetry though (which is a great interdisciplinary mathematical physics thing!); I just wanted something where I could throw some punchy words together to a title. I feel like exciting sounding titles are a love-it-or-hate-it kind of thing. I think they're fun though. </p><p>Zorn's Lemma is a key result in set theory. The line that Axiomatization gives is a reference to a bit of a joke. Mathematically speaking, Zorn's lemma is equivalent to the Axiom of Choice, which is equivalent to the Well-Ordering Theorem (here "equivalent" means "I can use one to prove the other and vice versa"). These results really range in how confusing they are to explain, which leads to the joke phrase: </p><p>"The axiom of choice is obviously true, the well-ordering principle obviously false, and who can tell about Zorn's lemma?" </p><p>The nonsensical reply with the $'s is LaTex (Lay-Tech), the typesetting language of choice for mathematicians. You can dump it into https://latexbase.com/ if you want to see what the symbols look like, and read a statement of the Axiom of Choice. I considered pasting a picture but thought it would be funnier to use the Latex raw. One thing that amuses me constantly about LaTex is how some of the commands are so intuitive (and others very much are not). If you're a new LaTex user and you haven't been linked to Detexify, well, here you go : https://detexify.kirelabs.org/classify.html </p><p>Lol oof, poor Harry at the ending. Womp womp. If you've played the game, you know he's all right :) </p><p>Thanks for reading all this, would love thoughts/comments of course! Next chapter is more mathematician!Kim backstory and Pale lore, so I'm looking forward to writing that!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I made a translation of the game-specific Seolite racial profiling to an academic setting. The stereotype remark happens in Harry's head and does not come back on Kim, but does inform Kim's general position/perception of him in the academy. </p><p>For those who aren't in academic spaces: this is probably obvious, but racism is most definitely a big issue there too.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> Back so soon?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- I had an accident.</li>
<li>- So worth it. Right in their smug faces.</li>
<li><b>- This did not need to happen. It was an illogical physical reaction on several levels.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> Those are the mysteries of the Spinal Cord. The Spinal Cord has yet to reveal itself to you -- its mysteries are unholy mysteries. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>
<b>- Wow, there’s more of you? Hidden? I truly am a being of many complexities</b>. </li>
<li>- I don’t know…. That just comes across as a lazy effort at re-conceptualizing the antics of a shambling drunk. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN -</b> You are way, way cooler than the depths of the Pale. Too cool for this world. </p><p><b>LIMBIC SYSTEM -</b> How’s it going out there? Are the tiny apes upset with their shadow-games?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “It’s not going very well.”</li>
<li>- “I’m doing fine.”</li>
<li><b>- “I think the shadows have grown horrible in their shapes, yes.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LENA, THE CRANK THEORIST’S WIFE  -</b> “Did one of the “shadows” have the shape of a circle, equivalent in area to a corresponding square?” An old woman’s voice appears out of the blackness. </p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> “Dr. Du Bois… Dr. Du Bois! Harry!!!” you hear the snapping of fingers, but you’re still coming back to yourself.</p><p><b>LENA, THE CRANK THEORIST’S WIFE -</b>  The woman in the chair that you crashed into looks down at you, her wrinkled eyes crinkling with concern, “Are you all right sweetie?”</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE -</b> You have sustained a trauma to your lower neck. In addition, you have strained your left trapezius muscle. Pain surges down your back when you move. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “No, are *you* okay?”</b></li>
<li>- Ouch.”</li>
<li>- “I’m very not okay.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>
  <b>HEALTH -1</b>
</p><p> </p><p><b>LENA, THE CRANK THEORIST’S WIFE -</b> “The chair took the brunt of it. Don’t worry.”</p><p><b>EVRART CLAIRE -</b> “I think it best we resume our discussion of the talk after lunch. Or dinner.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Or never.”</li>
<li><b>- “Cool.”</b></li>
<li>- Say nothing. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You get to your feet slowly, noticing Cuno and Kim still beside you. Cuno looks almost admiring. Kim looks you up and down, but just gives you a bracing nod when you grimace in reply. </p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Egghead promised the Cuno LUNCH,” he jerks his head towards the door.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Yes, we should go. It’ll be a good opportunity to converse with others who have travelled to be here.”</p><p><b>YOU -</b> The three of you cross into the vestibule with the rest of the talk attendees. The coffee table has been restocked, and the room has a new centerpiece that catches your eye.</p><p><b>OVERWHELMING TABLE CONSISTING OF MOSTLY SANDWICHES -</b> You survey the lunch table at first with confusion. So many platters of different colors, meats, small labels with a ‘V’ on them. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE [Easy: Failure] -</b> Stands for ‘vigor’. You should take one of those!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Take a ‘V’ sandwich.</b></li>
<li>- Take a different sandwich. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You chew through a centimeter thick of leaves and some kind of salty black vegetable. It doesn’t taste like much of anything. Beside you, Cuno takes a second sandwich, attempting to wrap it in several napkins.</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Cuno’s gotta take this to C....” he jams the wrapped sandwich into his deep jean-shorts. It doesn’t seem very sanitary. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What’s C?”</li>
<li>- “Do you have any drugs?”</li>
<li><b>- “Okay, bye.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> “Cuno doesn’t care,” he mumbles, but does look over his shoulder before he goes, “Cuno’s Egg’s got this, though.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Wave to him.</li>
<li>- Ignore him and eat your sandwich.</li>
<li><b>- Give him finger-guns, “See you later.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> The gremlin attempts to feign indifference, but you see a sort of grin flash over his cheeks before he passes around the corner. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> The other academics move around you with a mix of trepidation and disdain, a few of them even displaying what you could call ‘morbid curiosity’. You retreat to leaning against the brick wall. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> You watch your colleague interact politely with other professors at the conference. He seems deep in some kind of conversation with a colorfully dressed woman sporting what might be a fishing lure earring. You’re a bit intimidated by her. </p><p>
  <b>BREAKTHROUGH IMMINENT: Holomorphic World Schema</b>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>Holomorphic World Schema:</b> Chaos theory. Entroponetics. There’s an air of de-settlement, of revolution, if you dared use a political term, simmering below the surface of all the interactions. You sense you used to be at the beating heart of it -- but a more objective view might be from someone on the outside. You should ask someone *outside* of your field to explain some things to you. </p>
  <p>(+1 APPLICATION, +1 ADMINISTRATA)</p>
</blockquote><p><b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> Your eyes fall on a smartly dressed woman sitting in a crisp and neat booth labelled <em> Wild Pines Group. </em> A stack of cards sits neatly on the edge, meant to be inviting. Beside it is a pile of odd looking objects, three-pronged and rounded on all edges.</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] -</b> Triskelion-like. Inspiring imagery.</p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Trivial: Success] -</b> A three-torus. </p><p><b>TOY MODEL [Trivial: Success] -</b> Ooh! Grab one!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Walk over to the booth and grab one of the funny little objects.</b></li>
<li>- Walk over to the booth and grab one of the little cards.</li>
<li>- Walk over to the booth and talk to the woman. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You make a bee-line for the pile of toys, taking one in hand to fiddle with it. Your fingers are a little clumsy with it. You sense from the way it moves that it’s supposed to do *something*.</p><p><b>TOY MODEL [Easy: Failure] -</b> Umm….not totally sure. What if you put it on the ground? </p><p><b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> The woman on the desk leans over to watch you squat down and drop the toy. “Oh, hello. You must be Dr. Du Bois.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Yes, that’s me. How do you know my name?”</b></li>
<li>- “What’s this funky little object?”</li>
<li>- Say nothing, try to fiddle with the object more on the ground.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “I’m familiar with your...more passionate public outreach,” her eyes linger on your disco-ass mustache as you straighten up, “And you are quite visually distinctive.”</p><p><b>YOU -</b> You resist the urge to groan. You should have shaved when you shuffled out of the Whirling-in-Rags. Or put on a disguise. Being in a room where everyone knows you except *you* is like living a nightmare. </p><p><b>SYNTHESIS [Trivial: Success] -</b> What threads you bring together in nightmare are far, *far* worse and winding. </p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Success] -</b> We are *not* going there right now. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You’re in a booth”</b></li>
<li>- “Tell me about Wild Pines. What do you do?”</li>
<li>- “What else can you tell me about this conference?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “I am. I’m representing the Wild Pines Group, one of the sponsors of the conference,” she eyes you with a half-smile, “I see you like the fidget spinners. Here, the idea is you hold them like this.” </p><p>She pinches the object in its center, index finger aloft, and then uses it to nudge the object into a nice whirl. It’s then you notice the emblazoned logo of the Pine in the center of yours. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Whirl your spinner.</b></li>
<li>- “Actually this is stupid.” (Drop the spinner)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>TOY MODEL -</b> Oh, I love this! I wonder what kind of rotational speed we can get. </p><p><b>CALCULATOR [Challenging: Failure] -</b> 416 m/s. Wait. No. Not even close. </p><p><b>Item Acquired:</b> Wild Pines Fidget Spinner. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You’re in a booth”</li>
<li><b>- “Tell me about Wild Pines. What do you do?”</b></li>
<li>- “What else can you tell me about this conference?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “What *we* do. I’m afraid I don’t speak for Wild Pines as a whole. It’s a giant undertaking.”</p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Medium: Success] -</b> There's a lot of moving parts. She just represents them; and doesn’t claim credit for all their actions. Honestly, you could learn from that. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -<b>“So what do they do?”</b>
</li>
<li> -“Fair enough.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “The Pines *core* competency is acquisitions. Of talented ideas, transformative notions that rest on a sound basis of analysis.”</p><p>
  <b>ANALYSIS [Trivial: Success] -</b> You want to talk about sound analysis! Okay! Let G be a fiber bundle over a -- 
</p><p>
  <b></b>
</p><p><b>CLARITY [Trivial: Success] -</b> Good lord. You missed the relevant part of what she said. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -“So you’re here to use mathematics to make money.”</li>
<li> -“So you’re here to exploit proletariat labor in the most reductive way possible, using hard numbers.”</li>
<li> -“So you’re here looking for *innovators*.”</li>
<li> -“Sounds boring.”</li>
<li> -<b>“Analysis, I think I know some things about analysis. Let G be a fiber bundle -- ”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “Oh, I’m afraid you’ll have to push things way back from abstract matters. I have to keep to the group’s core interests,” she winks, “Better if you think of it as dumbing matters way down. Though I’m not a layman, the ability to explain a premise to the layman serves us well.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -“You’re in a booth”</li>
<li> -“Tell me about Wild Pines. What do you do?”</li>
<li> -<b>“What else can you tell me about this conference?”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “The conference you’re a part of? I’m told your talk is highly anticipated.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] -</b> That’s a bit of a diplomatic way of putting it. About as many people expect it to be a disaster as are expecting it to be a success.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Challenging: Success] -</b> In a clean and well-kept hotel room with high ceilings, Jean Vicquemare drums his fingers on the polished wooden desk, ear pressed to the phone. </p><p> “And you haven’t heard from him?”</p><p> “Why would he call me?” Judit Minot answers from a beat-up phone in her cramped office. She’s lucky to have one. </p><p> “McLaine called at lunch, said he was at Evrart *fucking* Claire’s talk of all people. Stranger things have happened.” </p><p> “For all his flaws, Harry's talks are usually pretty good. Well. Except…”</p><p> “I know. But what if *this* time -- “</p><p> “Just go back. And maybe try to find him before McLaine does.”</p><p> "Yeah, fuck, you’re right. Take care, Jude.”</p><p> “Thanks, Jean,” there’s a tired smile in her voice. The phone line goes dead. </p><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “The length of the conference is one week. Today and tomorrow have the fewest talks -- the afternoon today is dedicated to having people pair off and work together.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> That’s why Kim came to find you today. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -<b>“What’s the topic of the conference?”</b>
</li>
<li> -“Okay, makes sense.” [Move on]. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “Well, the topic is quite generic, being a cross-disciplinary mathematics conference. Everyone is here to attempt to make progress on impressive and difficult problems. To ride off the energy of the recent success,” she pauses, “If you could call it that. Wild Pines was reluctant to invest. But I still believe there’s mathematical work beyond dead ends.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -“As do I.”</li>
<li> -<b>“Recent...success?”</b>
</li>
<li> -“What is ‘invest’?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “The Navier-Stokes conclusion? I’m not a professor, but as I understand it, the equations that physicists use to describe all fluids -- water, fog, oil, select models of the Pale -- don’t have a solution. They’re a hopeless problem.”</p><p><b>ANALYSIS [Medium: Success] -</b> Given an initial velocity field, for the class of most velocity fields one could possibly ask about, the Navier-Stokes equations give solutions for the future velocity and pressure fields that become infinite.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -Infinite?</li>
<li> -<b>What does that mean?</b>
</li>
<li> -Infinite, yes, like myself. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>APPLICATION [Easy: Success] -</b> It means the answers aren’t...answers at all. They aren’t describing, nor are they able to predict reality. Mathematically speaking, we’re backed into a corner. </p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> She said it quite well with the problem being hopeless.</p><p><b>PASSION [Challenging: Success] -</b> No. No it can’t be hopeless. There’s always another way.</p><p><b>ANALYSIS [Medium: Success]  -</b> There’s always the Vlasov Equations.</p><p><b>STAMINA [Medium: Failure] -</b> Ugh. I don’t even want to think about that. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -<b>“So, wait. Fluid dynamics in math is….dead?”</b>
</li>
<li> -“Oh...right! That.”</li>
<li> -“I’m sorry, I’ve been having a recent memory episode. How was this solved?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “Well. I’m told it’s not so simple, but that is the public perception. And it’s been difficult to convince Wild Pines otherwise,” she squints at you, as if realizing these aren’t questions you should be asking.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -“Thanks for clearing that up.”</li>
<li> -“This Stokes thing sounds like a dumb problem anyways.”</li>
<li> -“They probably were wrong about this Stokes thing. I’ll clear it up.”</li>
<li> -<b>“I’m sorry, I’ve been having a recent memory episode. How was this Stokes thing solved?”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> She blinks at you, “It was solved by mathematicians who work on entroponetics studies. There’s skepticism about the methods, but the mathematician who solved it, Dr. Luukanen-Kilde, claims that Pale exposure gave her the insights needed. She was working on the problem for years before.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -<b>“What is the Pale?”</b>
</li>
<li> -“Okay.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “The Pale is the most dominant geological feature of the world, Dr. Du Bois. the separative tissue between the isolas. It is achromatic, odorless, featureless. The enemy of matter and life.” </p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION [Challenging: Success] -</b> The negation of being. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -<b>“So what, she’s claiming that radiation exposure gave her the proof? That’s crazy.”</b>
</li>
<li> -"Ah yes. Echoes of the impending apocalypse imparting truth. Soon the death knell will sound for this entire field.”</li>
<li> -“Sounds like I should tap into this *Pale* sometime.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “It is. But it’s a belief becoming more prevalent, even among those who claim to be logical,” she presses her lips into a thin line, assessing your reaction, “This is the first time you remember hearing of this? You really don’t remember anything?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -<b>“Nothing. Just alcohol fumes and blackout.”</b>
</li>
<li> -“I sometimes sense vague shadows of a past, but it’s not good.”</li>
<li> -“I’m getting a sense of who I am, but no, I didn’t know this.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “Then tell me this, Doctor. What do you think of the Pale?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -“It is *disco”.”</li>
<li> -“It’s something the field has an unhealthy obsession with.”</li>
<li> -“It will end all life.”</li>
<li> -<b>“That we continue to persist at all is a testament to our faith in the concept of Truth.”</b>
</li>
<li> -“Who am I to think anything of it?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p> <b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “Hmm…” her eyes tense. Crow’s feet radiate from them. She observes you: your bloodshot eyes and swollen face.</p><p>“You really didn’t know.This does not bode well for your talk on Friday. Nor, quite frankly, for the field.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -“What do you mean?”</li>
<li> -“It’s under control.”</li>
<li> -<b>“Oh no. I’m going to fuck it up. I know it.”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><b>JOYCE MESSIER -</b> “I hope not Dr. Du Bois. For every Luukanen-Kilde success story, there are three more bright minds that simply die from the radiation exposure. And for all your… Erdos-like methods, you’re one of the strongest voices in opposition to that particular brand of pale-based mysticism.”<p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] -</b> Paul Erdos was a number theorist who spent most of his career doing mathematics under the influence of amphetamines. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION -</b> Hell yeah. That man knew how to work. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You step away from the booth. Your head is spinning. The voices around you blend with voices in your mind. You duck into a classroom to gather yourself. On the desk there is a box labelled ‘Props’. </p><p><b>Item acquired: </b>Blonde wig, sunglasses. </p><p><b>STAMINA -</b> Well, you can’t just hide in here for the rest of the week.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Easy: Success] -</b> Some fresh air might help you process this. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li> -Go talk to someone you haven’t met.</li>
<li> -Grab a second sandwich.</li>
<li> -<b>Wander outside. </b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> YOU -</b> Wandering out into the crisp winter air, you catch sight of a fog rolling in as the rain tapers for the moment, cloaking the clock tower with distant smoke. You wonder how many kilometers lie between here and the edge of the pale.</p><p><b>CALCULATOR [Medium: Success] -</b> 6237. </p><p><b>REPARTEE [Challenging: Success] -</b>  Or a scant kilometer or so from the Whirling-in-Rags.</p><p><b> YOU -</b>- “Say again?”</p><p>The fog answers you with nothing. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - Go back inside. [Leave]. </li>
 <li> - Contemplate mathematics while staring at the clock tower.</li>
 <li> - <b>Look around the grounds. </b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> YOU -</b> You observe the interlocked pavement under your feet, searching for a pattern along the wet bricks. The barest outline of another set of boots catches your eye. You follow it with dogged intensity, like a police detective on the trail of a strange lead. </p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Looking up from the footsteps, you catch sight of your colleague, leaning with his back against a small bridge over a water feature cut through the grounds. As you approach, he tilts his head towards you. You notice in his hand -- a piece of chalk?</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> One better, baby. </p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He brings the cigarette to his lips, taking in your appearance with some concern, “Ah. Nice to see you again, Doctor.”</p><p>
  <b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> He’s not lying. Speaking with the other academics over lunch was a fair amount more exhausting than he expected. 
</p><p><b> YOU -</b> “I didn’t know you smoked.”</p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I have a cigarette in the mid-afternoon as I go over the sketches of the proofs I’ll work on. It’s something of a ritual.”</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION -</b> Oh man. He looks so devastatingly *cool* with that cigarette. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “I think I’m a smoker. Do you have any more cigarettes?”</li>
 <li> - <b>“How’d you get to be so cool, Kim?”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “So what about this...conference?” (Return to mathematics). </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> The light of his cigarette illuminates a fleeting smile. “Cool is a peculiar trait to ascribe to someone who does mathematics. Besides, smoking is -- more of an unnecessary trial of will. It isn’t healthy.”</p><p><b>STAMINA [Easy: Success] -</b> The kind of will it takes to keep the habit within these axioms is not entirely dissimilar to the will it takes to continue work on a proof that seems hopeless. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Success] -</b>  Underneath it all, though -- this man *does* relish his cool, and that alone keeps him from quitting. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “I think I’m a smoker. Do you have any more cigarettes?”</li>
 <li> - <b>“So what about this...conference?” (Return to mathematics). </b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He pulls on his cigarette, considering you thoughtfully. You notice a neat blue notebook, tucked in the inside of that orange jacket, “What would you like to know?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“I heard about the Pale. And the Navier-Stokes problem. Got a bit of a reality low-down.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “What are our positions exactly? In mathematics.”</li>
 <li> - “I’d like to talk about you.”</li>
 <li> - [Conjecture: Godly - WHITE] Get him to show you his notebook. </li>
 <li> - Stare at the ripples in the water for a moment.</li>
 <li> - “Actually, I’m going to head back in.” [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I see. And did you remember -- ?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “Not a thing.”</li>
 <li> - “It comes in flashes.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“I really didn’t like this pale-exposure thing, apparently.”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I agree with you there. A fair number of people are taking reckless risks with their minds,” he stills, taking a drag of the cigarette, “There’s a *lot* of pressure to perform, however. Especially here.”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Success] -</b> A lengthy history of war and occupation has taken Revachol’s once-illustrious academic community off the map in the past few decades. Ground that has been regained was hard-earned.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “I heard about the Pale. And the Navier-Stokes problem. Got a bit of a reality low-down.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“What are our positions exactly? In mathematics.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “I’d like to talk about you.”</li>
 <li> - [Conjecture: Godly - WHITE] Get him to show you his notebook. </li>
 <li> - Stare at the ripples in the water for a moment.</li>
 <li> - “Actually, I’m going to head back in.” [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> "To my knowledge, we are both tenured professors. Myself, at Cycle Université here, and yourself at École Normal de Revachol.” </p><p><b>PRIORS [Easy: Success] -</b> École Normal is one of the oldest institutions in the isola, historically known for its prowess in technical fields. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “What are our positions exactly? In mathematics.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“I’d like to talk about you.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - [Conjecture: Godly - WHITE] Get him to show you his notebook. </li>
 <li> - Stare at the ripples in the water for a moment.</li>
 <li> - “Actually, I’m going to head back in.” [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Again? I don’t see why.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“Figure we’ll work better together if we have a little rapport.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Come on, open up a little.”</li>
 <li> - “You’re right, what’s there to know about a lame binoclard.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He smirks, looking down, “Determined to work despite the odds. All right. I can tell you it likely won’t do much for our proofs, but ask away.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“Are you going to give a talk?”</b>
</li>
 <li> - [Algebra: Challenging - WHITE] Try to remember something about the name Kitsuragi… (+1 Learned about Burnside’s Lemma)</li>
 <li> - “You don’t look like other people around here.”</li>
 <li> - “Tell me a secret about yourself.”</li>
 <li> - “Do you ever talk with yourself? </li>
 <li> - “That’s all for now.” [Conclude]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I already have. Unfortunately, it was early on in the week. I’m not sure you had arrived yet.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “Sorry to have missed it. Hope it went well.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“Sorry. That was very polite, considering we were supposed to be working together.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “I’m sure it was boring.”</li>
 <li> - “Would you give it to me again? Sounds like it would *rock*.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “No, I suppose not. Still, it’s all right. Missing talks is a natural part of conferences. No one truly has the focus to take in every single one for a week. Some conferences even have overlapping sessions.”</p><p>
  <b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> He’s not disappointed you didn’t make his talk. He never expected you to. He does, however, appreciate the apology.
</p><p>
  </p>
<p></p><blockquote><p>
    <b></b>
  </p>
<ol>
 <li> - “Are you going to give a talk?”</li>
 <li> - [Algebra: Challenging - WHITE] Try to remember something about the name Kitsuragi… (+1 Learned about Burnside’s Lemma)</li>
 <li> - “You don’t look like other people around here.”</li>
 <li> - “Tell me a secret about yourself.”</li>
 <li> - <strong>“Do you ever talk with yourself? </strong>
</li>
 <li> - “That’s all for now.” [Conclude]</li>
</ol><p>
    <b></b>
  </p></blockquote><b>
  <br/>
</b><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “What do you mean?”</p><p><b> YOU -</b> “You know, when you’re thinking. Do you ever have conversations with...your brain? Where your brain tells you things? Using math words that you...might or might not know?”</p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He shakes his head and laughs, “And some people wonder why you’re so productive. Having conversations in your brain. I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“I’m ...productive?”</b>
</li>
 <li> - "Course. All part of the magic."</li>
 <li> - "It’s an accelerationist tactic. The voices are prophetic.”</li>
 <li> - “Oh, it’s just a different way of thinking really.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now that you’ve received a … “reality low-down”. Yes. You’re well-known and you have extremely high output levels. You have an incredibly impressive research record in a wide variety of disciplines,” he tilts his head at you, studying your reaction. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Failure] -</b> No wonder he was so worried about meeting you. Because you’re such a rockstar mathematician. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> In a cramped, drafty office which is all but a closet, doctoral candidate Judit Minot pinches her forehead, trying to focus on a stack of undergraduate assignments. She checks her calendar, running over whether it’s been an appropriate number of days to ask for her revision yet *again*. She murmurs something about prices paid for who she works for, then sets her gaze back to squinting at the page. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “Guess that’s why you wanted to work with me.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“So wait, other people don’t do their maths in brain conversations? You don’t?”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Is this why you were worried about meeting me?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Well, I do a lot of my work inside my notebook,” your colleague produces his blue notebook and taps on the outside, “I’m also not immune to the call of a clean blackboard.”</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Easy: Success] -</b>We all have our mediums. His is written. You can find common ground with chalk in your hand. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>You don’t look like other people around here.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - [Algebra: Challenging - WHITE] Try to remember something about the name Kitsuragi… (+1 Learned about Burnside’s Lemma)</li>
 <li> - “Tell me a secret about yourself.”</li>
 <li> - “Do you ever talk with yourself? </li>
 <li> - “That’s all for now.” [Conclude]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “That's because I'm half-Seolite. Or quarter. My father's father was from Seol -- so was my grandmother, but from my mother's side…” He shakes his head. "It's not an interesting topic.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “What’s Seol?”</li>
 <li> - <b>“Okay then.”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> "Mhm. I don't speak a word of Seolite and I've never met either one of my grandparents. I’ve had no so-called aptitudes imparted to me by that history. I’m just a garden-variety Revacholian mathematician.”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] -</b> There is a flow of mathematics papers, sparse, yet of unmistakable quality, that reaches your desk from Seol. The few mathematicians that come to give talks at internationally renowned conferences are uncanny in their youth, sparking a large number of rumors about the source of Seolite mathematical prowess. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - You don’t look like other people around here.”</li>
 <li> - <strong>[Algebra: Challenging - WHITE] Try to remember something about the name Kitsuragi… (+1 Learned about Burnside’s Lemma)</strong>
</li>
 <li> - “Tell me a secret about yourself.”</li>
 <li> - “Do you ever talk with yourself? </li>
 <li> - “That’s all for now.” [Conclude]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p>
  <b>ALGEBRA [Challenging: Success]- </b> The word you are searching for: Del Pezzo Surface. 
</p><p>
  <b></b>
</p><p>
  <b></b>
</p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> The details of the proofs matter surprisingly less in this case. The seventy-four pages you sifted through were a remarkable example of my namesake.</p><p><b>MENTOR -</b> Hence why you put it on several of your reading lists. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“I think...I know of your work, actually? I remember it?”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Do you?” he sounds almost tense, distant.  </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> Maybe we should back off. The last time we spoke about his work didn’t go well. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Coming from me, though -- you should see this through. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“I remember the name Kitsuragi from a long paper -- about rational points on a del Pezzo surface?” </b>
</li>
 <li> - “Never mind, it’s probably nothing.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague blinks, his tension melting away to surprise, “That -- would have been my dissertation.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“That explains the seventy-four pages. Apparently I can read too, when I’m not…” (Gesture to your head)</b>
</li>
 <li> - “What’s a dissertation?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He laughs, earnest and yet -- still fixing you with something like wonder, “I don’t understand why you would be reading *my* Ph.D. thesis, of all people.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “I remember putting it on a reading list. Seems like I thought it was unusually clear writing.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“Your math must just be that *disco*, Kim.”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I don’t know what you mean by disco, but it is seventy-four pages, exactly. One doesn’t forget something like that.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“I remember putting it on a reading list. Seems like I thought it was unusually clear writing.”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> "Hm. Well that explains why your postdoctoral fellow seemed to know of my name." He turns his head to study you. </p><p>“I’m flattered -- and deeply surprised. You know the joke about the dissertation being a document that only your advisor ever reads. If that,” he takes a drag of the cigarette, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b>Withering on a pile in your desk sits an impressive thesis written by a J. Minot. The comments, scrawled in red pen, are not your own. You’ve never touched it. It’s a miracle the document isn’t ruined by spilled coffee, or worse. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “You don’t look like other people around here.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“Tell me a secret about yourself."</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Do you ever talk with yourself?</li>
 <li> - “That’s all for now.” [Conclude]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He frowns, clearly considering this. “I’m not sure what there is to tell.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “Something about your work.”</li>
 <li> - “Something about mathematics.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“Something you’ve never told anyone.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Something personal.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “That’s a working definition of a secret, isn’t it?” he considers this, “And do you think this will help with mathematics? Is that your method? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “Yes, I do.”</li>
 <li> - <b>“You’re not answering the question.”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Well spotted.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>Ask him again. </b>
</li>
 <li> - “Oh, okay.” (Talk about something else)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “You’re very persistent. That’s a good trait for a mathematician.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“You’re good at avoiding the question. *Is* that good mathematics?”</b>
</li>
 <li> - "I guess I am. Am I an algebraic number theorist, like you?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I don’t believe we’re talking about mathematics at all, Doctor.”</p><p><b>DEBATER [Easy: Success] -</b> He can talk circles around you like this for hours. Better back it up. You won’t learn anything. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>[Debater: Godly - WHITE] Come up with a reason he should tell you a secret.</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Oh, okay.” (Talk about something else)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>DEBATER [Godly: Failure] -</b> Go for tit for tat. Tell him a good secret first. Something *juicy*. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> Easy, I got you. You’re fucking your postdoc.</p><p><b> YOU -</b> Sorry, I’m *what*?</p><p><b>DEBATER [Godly: Failure] -</b> Shit, not *you*... </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“Kim… are you supposed to have a sexual relationship with your post-doctor?”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm. No?” he coughs on his cigarette </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“Shit. I’m going to get arrested.”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Um, forget I said that.”</li>
 <li> - “Wow. I must be a true rockstar.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “No, no -- nothing like that,” he clears his throat, clearly trying to gather himself, “Homo-sexuality has not been illegal in Revachol for more than two decades. And though a small power dynamic exists, it’s hardly as questionable as relationships with graduate students and their advisors.”</p><p>He straightens his back and looks you in the eye, “It is, however, more so personal information. Probably best not to mention it to colleagues.”</p><p>
  <b>MENTOR [Challenging: Failure] -</b> You’ve made him both more and less comfortable with you. Wait, I definitely don’t get that... 
</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Challenging: Success] -</b> He’s also partially unsurprised, thinking back. Handsome guy, your post-doctor, in a harrowed way. Cause you’ve got taste.</p><p><b> YOU -</b> Wait is this post-doctor my ex-something? </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Can we go back to the homo-something? I feel a homology lecture coming on.</p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> Please. Let's talk about homeomorphisms, coffee, donut anyone? </p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION -</b> Did someone say homotopy type theory? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - "I guess I have a homotopy type, huh?"</li>
 <li> - "Wait a minute. Did I say anything about homo shit…"</li>
 <li> - <b>Say nothing. (Move on)</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague regards you with interest, but doesn’t comment. You can feel the sweat beading on your brow. Your eyes lock on to his gloved hands, the ropy muscle of his forearms. The scent of nicotine calms you. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “So about the Pale and this Navier-Stokes thing…”</li>
 <li> - “What are our positions exactly? In mathematics.”</li>
 <li> - “I’d like to talk about you.”</li>
 <li> - [Conjecture: Godly - WHITE] Get him to show you his notebook. (+2, Mentioned you read his dissertation, +1 Mentioned his notebook).</li>
 <li> - <b>Stare at the ripples in the water for a moment.</b>
</li>
 <li> - “Actually, I’m going to head back in.” [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> The murmur of the stream fills the silence between you. The air, heavy with rain, condenses in a dim fog on his lenses. It’s hard to read his face. He looks at his slim cigarette, contemplating his next drag.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> This *soldier* is the highlight of the day for me, he thinks. Let’s hope it helps me get closer to the answers.</p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He pulls on the cigarette and says, “There’s not as much faith in us, here. Cycle is desperate to drum up interest in our work, but it feels like a lost cause. Especially after the Navier-Stokes solution. I’ve heard even your institution is suffering, and it’s much more reputable.”</p><p><b> YOU -</b> “Why *is* there so much pressure?”</p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Resources, mainly. An increasing pressure on doing useful work, rather than curiosity-based work. And a failure for work that investment interests would deem ‘useful’ to yield anything they can capitalize on.”</p><p><b>APPLICATION [Medium: Success] -</b> You’ve put your nose to the grindstone over several pages of grant applications. Many of them coming up empty. </p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Challenging: Success] -</b> You should really be formatting those in a different typesetting engine. They’re not written to other mathematicians. </p><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “It is *incredibly* hard. And it’s difficult to communicate the beauty of our work even to each other, much less to the public. But it is worth it. The things we learn are worth it.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - 
<b>“I hope our collaboration can at least bring some faith back in the field</b>.<b>”</b>
</li>
 <li> - “That’s not going to change. People are afraid of mathematics.”</li>
 <li> - “What people need is more aggressive mathematics classes, at every level! We’ll *make* them appreciate it!”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Me too. But I can’t help but feel like this result has set us back, rather than forward. Both in insight and in...approaches.”</p><p><b>PASSION [Easy: Success] -</b> He is very tired, but the dark circles under his eyes make him look younger, not older. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - “So about the Pale and this Navier-Stokes thing…”</li>
 <li> - “What are our positions exactly? In mathematics.”</li>
 <li> - “I’d like to talk about you.”</li>
 <li> - <b>[Conjecture: Godly - WHITE] Get him to show you his notebook. (+2, Mentioned you read his dissertation, +1 Mentioned his notebook). </b>
</li>
 <li> - Stare at the ripples in the water for a moment.</li>
 <li> - “Actually, I’m going to head back in.” [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Godly: Success] -</b> Collaboration is what we are *supposed* to be doing with this good fellow. Just tell him that and he’ll take you at your word. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
 <li> - <b>“So. In my reality low-down, I also heard we were supposed to work together,” you try to rearrange The Expression on your face to something resembling camaraderie, “How about we go on and you tell me what the abc conjecture is from those notes of yours?”</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b> KIM KITSURAGI -</b> A warm smile appears on your colleague’s lips, “Nothing I would enjoy more. Lead the way to the blackboard, Doctor.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Some fun liner notes for you, as always!</p><p>Lena’s remark about the “circle, equivalent in area to a corresponding square” refers to the ancient geometric problem of <a>squaring the circle</a>. I asked a good friend who has his PhD in Mathematics what emails he gets from cranks claiming to have solved various problems and he came back with that :) </p><p>No shame to veggie sandwiches at conferences, I’ve just been on the side of accidentally taking one like “WOOPS” and thought that was funny to riff. Harry can’t taste things because he’s y’know, an alcoholic lol. </p><p>A triskelion is actually not a mathematical word at all, but a European neolithic symbol. It does have some nice imagery though, which is why Conceptualization likes it. A three-torus, on the other hand, is loosely speaking “anything with three holes”. Shoutout to Jake for the fidget-spinner idea :) Of the conferences I've been to, I mostly get yo-yos :) </p><p>416 m/s is the rotation speed of the Earth. </p><p>The “let G be a fiber bundle” is really a joke about technical people getting too excited and explaining nothing with big words BUT if you must know a fiber bundle is a concept in topology. Topology technically has analysis/algebra categories but Harry’s brain sorts topology into “analysis”. Heh. </p><p>Hopefully you followed the Navier-Stokes explanation from the text! It really is an unsolved problem in our world, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Navier%E2%80%93Stokes_existence_and_smoothness">you can read about the problem here.</a> Hopefully you enjoyed what I did with the Pale+worldbuilding :) I'd say the take on the problem is a bit of a narrative exaggeration of the impact on the field, but it is fun to think about, you know? Sometimes it's a bummer when things are "solved" but with a "most solutions doesn't exist". And honestly, that could happen!</p><p>Paul Erdos really is a speed addict mathematician and he was a totally wild guy. I really recommend the biography "The Man who Loved Only Numbers" if you can get your hands on it. </p><p>Kim’s thesis topic isn’t particularly notable (nor accessible). It’s a tribute to a mathematician who mentored me :) Shoutout also to my PhD friend for fielding questions about how long a pure math dissertation would be. </p><p>All those homo words ARE real math words, hah. </p><p>I have some thoughts about the way that Kim’s professionalism translates to the academic setting, but maybe I’ll leave those to comment chatter ^_^ </p><p>Hope you liked this chapter! Comments as always are welcomed and loved ^_^ Cuno will be back in a later chapter if you miss him :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Math chapter math chapter!</p><p> </p><p>Literally it will not get any more mathy than this :) If you wish to skip the bulk of the abc conjecture explanation, you can skip over the dialogue from “Alright. Lay it on me, what’s the abc conjecture?” to “Does the Pale have anything to do with the problem?”. I won’t mind at all if you do :) I try to explain it clearly, but I’m also bouncing off Harry’s overclocked brain offering more lengthy explanations than needed.</p><p>The mathematics talked around after the abc conversation is totally fictional (ie. from the moment Kim takes off his jacket). I’ll make a few remarks on the names at the end :) </p><p>Hope you enjoy this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING EXTERIOR -</b> Your steps feel heavier as the imposing grey concrete comes into view. Despite the quickness of Kim’s stride, you feel yourself holding back. You wonder how many of the talk attendees are still lingering in the huge vestibule. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Failure] -</b> :-( Would prefer not to go back in there. People have *expectations*. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Kim doesn’t. I’ll be okay. </li>
<li>- I’m sorry I ever started this. </li>
<li>- I’m going to crush their expectations like the rock star I am.</li>
<li>
<b>- Maybe I should put on a disguise?</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>Items Equipped: Blonde wig, Sunglasses. (+1 PRIORS, -1 PROFESSOR)</b>
</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI </b> Your colleague doesn’t remark on your eccentric change of attire, simply gestures from the door for you to come inside. He walks with purpose through the vestibule, into a hallway where many classroom doors lie in wait. He chooses 41 with confidence. </p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Medium: Success] -</b> The conference attendees have been assigned rooms for the collaboration session. Yours would have been on your badge. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> Badge? :-( </p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA -</b> It’s fine, love, everyone loses theirs. </p><p><b>SMALL GRADUATE CLASSROOM -</b> A clean blackboard stretches from corner to corner of the room. The desk at the front is wide enough to span more than half of it, boxes of chalk sitting neat in waiting underneath it. Three rows of chairs lining long desks fill the classroom. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> On a crisp fall day, as many as twenty students, as few as three, find their home in this room, often scribbling frantically in notebooks as a professor teases out intricate equations, sketches elegant counterexamples. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague takes out his blue notebook and a thick blue fountain pen. “Are you ready, Doctor?”</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Easy: Success] -</b> What a beautiful pen...</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Born ready.”</li>
<li>- “...maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I still don’t remember anything.”</li>
<li><b>- “This is a bad idea. I don’t even have a pen…”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “You have chalk,” he gestures at the board. The emptiness of it does little to reassure you. </p><p>“Khm. If I instruct you, at worst it will be insightful for me, in my ability to explain the problem to someone who doesn’t understand it,” he smiles at you sidelong, “And at best, it might jog your memory.”</p><p><b>STAMINA [Easy: Success] -</b> Take a breath in. The tense, yet resolute energy of the room. It’s what you’re used to.</p><p><b>PASSION -</b> It’s what you love. </p><p>
  <b>MORALE +1</b>
</p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Alright. Lay it on me, what’s the abc conjecture?”</b></li>
<li>- “What work has been done on the problem so far?”</li>
<li>- “Does the Pale have anything to do with the problem”</li>
<li>- [Algebra: Challenging: WHITE] Try to add something insightful to the board</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague nods, picking up a piece of chalk. On the board he writes “<em> a + b = c” </em>. You remember enough for that to feel familiar. </p><p>“Do you remember what an integer is?”</p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION [Trivial: Success] -</b> The counting numbers, including zero and negatives.</p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> So in short -- not a fraction or anything funny like pi, but it can be negative. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Number that isn’t a fraction?”</li>
<li><b>- “The only nontrivial totally ordered abelian group whose positive elements are well-ordered.”</b></li>
<li>- The counting numbers and their inverses under addition.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Hm. Not the most intuitive characterization, but if it’s the one you remember…” he arches an eyebrow at you, “A clearer way to put it would be counting numbers, with inverses. In any case. Maybe I can pick up my explanation of the problem.”</p><p>“The abc conjecture focuses on what is called the radical of the integer. Do you remember that?”</p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Medium: Failure] -</b> That would be the square-free kernel of the integer. </p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> Okay, but did you *understand* that?<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “It sounds radical in a *disco* way, but no.”</b></li>
<li>- “No.”</li>
<li>- “The kernel-square free?”<br/>
<br/>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “That’s all right, then,” he writes the phrase ‘rad(abc)’ on the board, “The prime factors of an integer are the numbers that divide it which can no longer be divided. So for instance, twelve can be factored into 3, 2, and 2 a second time.”</p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION -</b> We knew that, but go on. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI  -</b> You nod eagerly to continue. Your colleague’s glasses flash in the fluorescent lighting, “The radical of an integer is simply the product of the <em> distinct </em> prime factors. So the radical of 12 would be 3 x 2 = 6.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Following so far.”</b></li>
<li>- “Wait, can we go back?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Some further remarks on primality, which is by and large the main concern of number theory. The phrase ‘coprime’ means that two numbers do not share prime factors.”</p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION -</b> Save for 1.</p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> That doesn’t count. </p><p><b>AXIOMATIZATION -</b> It is still important, though. </p><p><b>CALCULATOR [Easy: Success] -</b> 4 and 9 are coprime. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What about 1? Doesn’t that divide everything?”</li>
<li><b>- “Like 4 is to 9?”</b></li>
<li>- “Can you explain that again?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Precisely. Now, in this equation --” he points to the ‘a+b=c’ etched on the board, “We require a,b,c to all be coprime. Loosely speaking, the product of their radical ‘usually’ obeys the following inequality.” He scrawls ‘c &lt; rad(abc)’ on the board. </p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> I’m following. He means that’s true for infinitely many a, b, c. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Give him *finger-guns*, “Radical.”</li>
<li><b>- “Usually...So that’s true for infinitely many a, b, c?”</b></li>
<li>- “Can we go through that part one more time?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague smiles out of the corner of his mouth, “Precisely. The abc conjecture concerns itself with the cases where that’s not true. Or not *exactly*, with a small analytic oversight.”</p><p><b>ANALYSIS [Challenging: Success] -</b> Here’s where I come in. You need something small. As small as you need it to be, as small as you ask for. Precision encoded by symbolism, indicating games we can play as long as the first uncountable infinity stretches...</p><p><b>SYMBOLIC LANGUAGE -</b> Let \varepsilon &gt; 0 \in \mathbb{R}, then ? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Write ‘c &gt; rad(abc) <sup>(1+ <span>ε</span>)’ </sup>on the board, look at him with a question in your eyes. </b></li>
<li>- “Oversight?”</li>
<li>- “What would it mean for that *not* to be true?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Exactly. The problem of the abc conjecture is to prove that for every such small number given, there are only finitely many a,b,c that are coprime and satisfy the product of the radical, with a little bit of a boost from this epsilon, being smaller than the sum of the numbers. Usually it’s bigger.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] -</b> Your colleague is buoyed by your memory of this key piece of the puzzle. </p><p><b>CITATION -</b> Show him you’re coming *back*. Your genius is meant to be respected.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Sorry, can we go over the boost thing again? I remember the symbols but I…”</b></li>
<li>- “Why is this important?”</li>
<li>- “Okay, I have a handle on this.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Of course. The epsilon can be a tricky concept that might go further back than you remember. Think of it as a representative of a number as small as you like. Say 0.001. Since we’re reaching for abstract precision, though, you could always go smaller, by dividing it by two or more. So we work with epsilon as an algebraic symbol, I suppose you could say.”</p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> That’s my symbol though. My bread and butter.</p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Yeah, uh, you can keep your infinite hotel rooms and complete obliteration of the concept of motion. </p><p><b>APPLICATION -</b> Bold of you to imply you concern yourself with motion. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Fair. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Okay, I’m following.”</b></li>
<li>- “Can you give an example?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “That’s good. You can pace yourself. There’s no shame in taking your time.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Can we go over the statement of the problem again…”</li>
<li><b>- “Why is this important?”</b></li>
<li>- “Okay, I have a handle on this.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b>  “It relates to a number of significant problems; specifically in Diophantine analysis,” his eyes flicker over the board, then he turns to you to gauge your confusion, “Diophantine analysis is a topic in number theory.”</p><p><b>APPLICATION [Medium: Success] -</b> I’m not convinced this matters. How does this relate to *reality*? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Diophantine. I think that word pulled me out of my alcoholic stupor.”</b></li>
<li>- “Okay, but what does that mean for…” gesture indistinctly, “Real life?”</li>
<li>- Nod seriously. [Continue]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm. It is a nice-sounding word,” your colleague adjusts his glasses, paging through his notes. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Okay, but what does this abc conjecture mean for…” gesture indistinctly, “Real life?”</b></li>
<li>- Nod seriously. [Continue]. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “For one thing, a much simpler proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem, which would be impressive in and of itself,” he tilts his head at the blackboard consideringly, “But outside of mathematics? I suppose if there are applications, none immediately spring to mind.”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Easy: Success] -</b> Fermat’s Last Theorem, scrawled in the margins of an old copy of <em> Arithmetica </em>, with a remark from Fermat himself he’d composed a proof, too large for the single page. Fermat’s purported solution was never found, but the tantalizing possibility held the attention of number theorists for over three hundred years.  </p><p><b>PASSION -</b> A genuinely exciting moment for the mathematical community when Wiles came out with the proof. Inspiring. </p><p><b>DEBATER [Medium: Failure] -</b> Unlike this Navier-Stokes pale magic nonsense. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Alright. Lay it on me, what’s the abc conjecture?”</li>
<li>- “What work has been done on the problem so far?”</li>
<li><b>- “Does the Pale have anything to do with the problem?”</b></li>
<li>- [Algebra: Challenging: WHITE] Try to add something insightful to the board</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Not to my knowledge, no.”
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Oh. Fair enough.”</li>
<li>- “Shows the limits of your knowledge. The swallow will subsume all...”</li>
<li><b>- “I guess…”</b></li>
<li>- “Lacking in imagination. Isn’t that just the nature of the world…”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Is that disappointing?”
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “No, I was just curious.”</li>
<li><b>- “Sorry. I guess I was thinking about that Navier-Stokes thing…”</b></li>
<li>- “It’s simply incorrect. All problems of importance have a direct path to the annihilation of our physical selves.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Ah. One of the things that throws the...mysticism of the Navier-Stokes result being some kind of pale-induced miracle *is* the fact that Dr. Luukanen-Kilde not only studied fluid dynamics prior to her exposure, she also studied specifically the fluid dynamics of the pale. A highly challenging problem in its own right, and one that goes beyond the Navier-Stokes equations.”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Success] -</b> The Vlasov Equations, the magnetic analog to the Navier-Stokes, are thought to govern the behavior of the Pale. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You mean the Vlasov Equations?”</b></li>
<li>- “Okay.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Yes. More seems to be coming back to you. That’s good.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Alright. Lay it on me, what’s the abc conjecture?”</li>
<li><b>- “What work has been done on the problem so far?”</b></li>
<li>- “Does the Pale have anything to do with the problem”</li>
<li>- [Algebra: Challenging: WHITE] Try to add something insightful to the board</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “The problem was posed in ‘12, the collaboration of a Revacholian and a Vespertine mathematician. There have been a few bounds results proven, I’ll add them in case they might help us,” he scrawls some further symbols underneath the problem statement. The chalk etches into the heavy gloves he wears. </p><p>  “There was also ...controversial claim to have proved it some six years prior.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Controversial how?”</li>
<li><b>- “We’re still working on it so can’t have been much of a proof.”</b></li>
<li>- “Oh. What’s the point of working on it then?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm. I suppose that also bodes well for your memory. You’ve been ... vocal in your skepticism of Dr. Mochizuki’s work.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] -</b> Your colleague doesn’t seem comfortable with your past mode of discourse on the subject. </p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Easy: Success] -</b> Doesn’t matter -- this Mochizuki guy was *wrong* and you knew it. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Can you give me a rundown anyways? Probably good to.”</b></li>
<li>- “Am I likely to run into this guy?”</li>
<li>- “Yeah, sounds like it was garbage.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> The tension in his brow relaxes a bit, “Normally I would agree, but that’s been the challenge with Mochizuki’s proof. He worked in isolation developing an incredibly intricate system of arithmetic geometry to tackle the problem. To date….I don’t believe anyone claims to understand Inter-Universal Teichmüller theory, and so...cannot verify the proof. </p><p><b>CONJECTURE -</b> Honestly, I’m annoyed we didn’t think of that. Just make the mathematics so nonsensical even *other* mathematicians can’t understand it. We’ll never be wrong.</p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> No!!!!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Sounds like it won’t help us then.”</li>
<li><b>- “What do you think about the proof?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Since you’re asking...no, I don’t have a particularly high opinion of it,” he flips through a few pages of his notebook, frowning, “Normally I’d chalk it up to aversion to things I don’t understand, but then again, when so many well-regarded colleagues have tried and failed… at minimum it doesn’t point to this so-called Inter-universal theory being particularly useful, even if it does prove the abc conjecture. So it’s worth working on the proof nonetheless.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “To reach for greater elegance.”</b></li>
<li>- “To try to get more clarity.”</li>
<li>- “I don’t like the thought of doing the work twice.”</li>
<li>- “What’s the point of proving this though?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> A smile plays on your colleague’s lips, “Very idealistic of you, I suppose.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Alright. Lay it on me, what’s the abc conjecture?”</li>
<li>- “What work has been done on the problem so far?”</li>
<li>- “Does the Pale have anything to do with the problem”</li>
<li><b>- [Algebra: Challenging: WHITE] Try to add something insightful to the board</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>ALGEBRA [Challenging: Success] -</b> Start here: Given a number field K, we define delta-sub-K to be D-sub-K to the power of one over the number of cosets of K in the rational numbers, where D-sub-K is the discriminant for the field extension K modulo the rational numbers. Then … </p><p><b>YOU -</b> The chalk clicks satsifyingly under your fingertips, the word <em> Lemma </em> equal parts reassuring and and unsettling to you. </p><p><b>SYMBOLIC LANGUAGE -</b> Try this, \Pi_v \max (||a_1||_v, ||a_2||_v, ….||a_n||_v) … </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Mohanty’s lemma. A promising place to begin. I myself have some notes regarding a similar lemma,” he shrugs his jacket off, leaving it on the desk as he flips through his notebook and begins to quietly mark down the beginnings of a statement. ‘<em> Let G be a p-adic group on…’ </em>. Every so often he glances back at you, gauging your reaction.  </p><p><b>MENTOR -</b> He’s both eager and anxious to see if the collaboration might amount to anything. </p><p><b>DEBATER [Challenging: Failure] -</b> What if we fail? What if we’re wrong? What if we have nothing to bring to the table?</p><p><b>PASSION -</b> We’re ready. Stay calm. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Read over what he’s added to your proof. </li>
<li>- Try to zone in to *disco math*.</li>
<li><b>- [Synthesis: Godly WHITE] Look for a connection you haven’t seen before. </b></li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>SYNTHESIS -</b> Okay, get the chalk, get drawing. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You squint at the five-pointed star you’ve drawn, “Kim, is this graph...helpful?” </p><p>
  <b>KIM KITSURAGI-</b> “I think that one genuinely is described as the devil’s symbol. There’s probably some graph theory you could do on it, though,” he turns back to his notes, taking the cap off his pen.
</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Challenging: Failure]  -</b> We disappointed him. We are failing, this is a failure. </p><p><b>CLARITY [Trivial: Success] -</b> You know, it might help if you read a single thing he wrote up there. Seeing as we respect his work. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Read over what he’s added to your proof. </b></li>
<li>- Try to zone in to *disco math*. </li>
<li>- [Synthesis: Godly WHITE- LOCKED] Look for a connection you haven’t seen before. </li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You take in each successive word carefully, old muscles in your brain beginning to click together. He’s made a start on the proof of the Mohanty Lemma. A good one, even. </p><p><b>REPARTEE [Medium: Success] -</b> An unfamiliar path! Soldier on, further in the direction of ever-deeper ramifications…</p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Hold on a moment, we can use that. Ramification, as in a ramified covering?</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION -</b> A fibrous weaving, then a separation. Evokes the tapestries of Anni Elbers, if you care to think colorfully. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Hey Kim, do you know about Anni Elbers?”</b></li>
<li>- “Hey Kim, do you know about ramified coverings?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> He frowns, thinking for a moment, “I..can’t say I do, no.”</p><p><b>YOU -</b> You scratch your beard carefully, “Textile artist. Her work reminded me of ramified coverings...”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Oh! Hm. That’s an angle I hadn’t considered…” your colleague goes silent a moment, scrawling a few more symbols excitedly on the board. </p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Challenging: Success] -</b> The image of several knotted fibers, weaving in and out from a functional source and shifts in your mind, speckled with the colors you’ve associated to points.</p><p><b>CLARITY [Medium: Failure] -</b> I can’t … quite see it. Or say it. Or both. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Yes, and if we then --” he pauses, watching you tilt your head, the wig brushing over the sunglasses, “Are you following, let me try to explain?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Give me a minute with it.”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m following, it was my idea.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Of course. Let me neaten it up,” he moves over to a different part of the board, recopying what he’s begun in careful, even letters. The repetition soothes you, and it seems to have the same effect on him. The mathematical definition of ramification slides into place in your mind.</p><p>“That’s good. I think we can get somewhere with this.”</p><p>
  <b>MORALE +1</b>
</p><p><b>YOU -</b> You lean back against the lecturer’s desk, taking in your work with fresh eyes. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Read over what he’s added to your proof. </li>
<li>- Try to zone in to *disco math*.</li>
<li><b>- [Synthesis: Godly WHITE] Look for a connection you haven’t seen before. (+1, added to his notes)</b></li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>SYNTHESIS [Godly: Failure] -</b> Okay, okay. This time. We’re going to invoke the Prescod conjecture. Follow closely. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You take a step back from the board, “Kim -- what about the Prescod conjecture?”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Ah. That’s a promising start, but -- ” he pages through to the middle of his notebook, “I’ve already worked it out to be a dead end, I think.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Nod seriously. </li>
<li><b>- Ask to see his notebook. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You take a few steps closer to look over his shoulder. He passes the book to you, seemingly without thought, then hops up to sit on the desk, cleaning his glasses as he waits for you to read it. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> He hasn’t had the professional option to show someone his notes for years now. He can’t remember if there’s anything particularly naive or personal in there. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> Your eyes weigh the mathematics carefully, the underlying structure feeling more familiar to you with every neatly penned word. The phrase “let it do what it wants == to grade the white space like a passing lane to passing strange” is scrawled in the margins. The mathematics, however, is as he says -- the path is a dead end. But you understand every word of it.</p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> No less than we’d expect from the author of that thesis. You could take a leaf out of his book. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> You could consider writing *many* things down in books.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> An cramped office with a generously sized window, stained and mottled, lies in wait at École Normale. The desk is covered with stacks of paper, an impressive rat’s nest in the middle -- yet behind it, an impressive bookshelf with dated notebooks, all lined up at the bottom, J. Vicquemare scrawled on the spine label. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I think this is wrong and the Prescod Conjecture is the right idea.”</li>
<li>- “I think there’s still something we can do with this.”</li>
<li>- "This is hopeless. We're never going to get anywhere."</li>
<li><b>- “Oh, too bad. Nice work, though.” </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Dead ends are still work,” he reaches eagerly for his notebook back. You catch the barest tinge of color rising in his ears. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Read over what he’s added to your proof. </li>
<li><b>- Try to zone in to *disco math*. </b></li>
<li>- [Synthesis: Godly WHITE - LOCKED] Look for a connection you haven’t seen before. (+1, added to his notes)</li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> A hum at the back of your mind reaches fever pitch. Your fingers begin to twitch involuntarily, tapping out the beat. </p><p><b>PRIORS [Easy: Success] -</b> 'Supranature', a disco beat that catapulted Antistar to fame. </p><p><b>YOU -</b> You rock back and forth to the backbeat. When the music reaches chorus, the words come to your lips unbidden. You’re half-singing, half-mumbling as you study the board, your body moving almost of its own accord. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> Shit that helps you think. Along with karaoke, sex, and cocaine. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague eyes you with bemused attention, then after a moment shakes his head and begins to whistle along. It’s an unusual choice for a beat so *disco* but it manages to work. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Read over what he’s added to your proof. </li>
<li>- Try to zone in to *disco math*. </li>
<li><b>- [Synthesis: Godly WHITE] Look for a connection you haven’t seen before. (+1, added to his notes, +2 got *disco*. )</b></li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>SYNTHESIS [Godly: Success] -</b> Oh. *Oh*. Here it is. Listen to me. First, take a right turn into Galois Module Theory. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> Hold on, that -- might actually work.</p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Yes, yes, yes! This is going to be a wild one, boys. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS -</b> No pun intended. Right, so about those étale extensions...</p><p><b>YOU -</b> You scrawl down the ideas as fast as you can manage, mangling each into the other, brushing away your worse handwriting with your cracked bare hands. You have to make this *understood*. It feels like catching mist in your mind, but with every word, things grow more solid. </p><p>You stop somewhere that feels like the middle, unsure where to go next. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Please tell me that makes some kind of sense.”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m stuck here.”</li>
<li>- “I’m going to crush this faster than you can say *disco*."</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Wait. It might. Give me a moment,” he frowns, taking out his pen. For nearly a minute by your count, he writes, looking up to the board, expression ever growing in intensity. When he finally puts down his pen, he sets his notebook down, picks up the chalk, and adds the next equation -- the next elegant logical leap, picking up exactly as you might have. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Wow. That’s -- very good.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Medium: Success] -</b> Hot stuff in more ways than one. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> Please go away, we’re *working*. </p><p><br/>
<b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “We’re close. I can feel it. God, if we can crack this--” he stops himself, “Well, it’s not the abc conjecture, but it’s a huge step. If we can just close this gap…”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Yeah. Yeah. Any ideas?”</li>
<li><b>- “We’ll get it. I know it.”</b></li>
<li>- “Give me a minute. Genius brain at work here.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague gives you a bracing nod. The seconds the two of you stare turn into minutes. Your fingers twitch to the disco beat running in your mind, but you don’t wish to disturb him. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Squint at the board longer. </li>
<li><b>- [Conceptualization: Impossible - White] Take the proof to the gravestone.</b></li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now].</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Impossible: Failure] -</b> You have no clue. This is simply a blackboard full of esoteric symbols </p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> Symbols we do *understand*. But yes, we have hit a wall. </p><p><b>STAMINA -</b> So many metaphorical walls… parchment fading, chalk cracking at skin...</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Squint at the board longer. </b></li>
<li>- [Conceptualization: Impossible - LOCKED]  Take the proof to the gravestone.</li>
<li>- Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now].</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> Minutes pass. You become aware of the ticking of the analog clock in the room. The earlier tune that carried you has faded. You don’t remember how it begins. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b>  Your colleague hops down from his seat on the desk, “Why don’t we get some coffee, put some fresh eyes on it in a moment?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>Go out to get some coffee. [Leave for now].</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING -</b> You duck carefully out of the classroom, looking over your shoulder, but the area in front of the lecture hall remains mercifully empty. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION -</b> This is insufficient. We should get some speed, actually. Mainline some of that Erdos shit.</p><p><b>STAMINA -</b> Patience. You need a moment to see this through. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> The cavalry is coming.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague sips his black coffee contemplatively. Without the orange jacket, the cream-colored turtleneck sweater gives him a more academic bent. The heavy brown gloves he wears are still a bit unusual, now painted with chalk. </p><p><b>CITATION [Medium: Success] -</b> Right, enough lolly-gagging. You have a field to show what you’re made of. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Pace around the hallway.</li>
<li><b>- Go back to look at the proof again. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>SMALL GRADUATE CLASSROOM -</b> You gesture to your colleague and he nods, following you back to the space. You are stuck by the contrast between his neatly penned contributions and your excited scrawl. Your eyes sift through the words again. You almost wonder if --  </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Harry! Where the *hell* have you been?”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Failure] -</b> … no idea who that is. </p><p><b>SYNTHESIS [Easy: Success] -</b> Whatever this man is on about, it’s immaterial compared to your *work* here.</p><p><b>CLARITY [Medium: Success] -</b> It might help to know where he’s positioned in the field. And whether you’re able to communicate this to him. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Ah. Dr. Vicquemare -- your post-doctoral fellow.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> Through your sunglasses a seriously dressed and haggard looking man comes into view, striding across the classroom with purpose. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Challenging: Failure] -</b> … now *that* man looks like a mathematician. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b>  “Dr. Kitsuragi. Sorry to send you on that wild goose chase,” he jabs a finger at you, “I’ve come to scrape what’s left of *him* off the pavement.” </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm. Not at all,” he points to the blackboard, “We’ve just been collaborating…”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Actually, insights on this might be appreciated, later,” he adds, suddenly regaining his confidence.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR  -</b> As if he recalled that he is, in fact, a tenured professor of algebraic number theory, and not an undergraduate caught plagiarizing. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “But if this is a *personal matter*, I should perhaps...leave you to discuss it amongst yourselves,” he glances to the door, then back to the blackboard with no small degree of concern.</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Easy: Failure] -</b> He’s worried your post-doctor is going to steal your work!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Thank you, Doctor.”</li>
<li>- “Way to feed me to the wolf…”</li>
<li><b>- “No, Kim, this is all about the maths. Let’s destroy him.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague’s glasses flash, an eyebrow raised underneath the reflection, “Might I remind you, Doctor, that the mathematical work we are doing is *collaborative*. I’m not interested in destroying anyone.”</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Challenging: Success] -</b> With the exception of in the bedroom.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> Please do *not* let him have the floor. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You can stay. Better that it doesn’t get personal,” his glare has an intensity that almost radiates heat, “If we can be fucking adults for a minute. And what the *hell* are you wearing? Are you supposed to be Guillaume *fucking* Bevy?</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] -</b> Guillaume Bevy is a popular science writer known for sensationalist headlines. He's distinctly un-popular in the mathematics community.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Take off the wig and sunglasses.</b></li>
<li>- Refuse to. </li>
<li>- Lower the sunglasses and flash him a wink.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> Without the muted grey of the sunglasses between you, you can see him more clearly. His flinty grey-green eyes take you in with unrelenting intensity. His cheeks are pock-marked, a flake of what might be blood on the edge of his cheekbones. His rough-shorn goatee is colored by a five o’clock shadow, exhaustion under his eyes. </p><p>As you meet his eyes, something falters in them, before vanishing into a frown. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Godly: Success] -</b> He’s remembering that he *does* like you, in spite of himself. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] -</b> Can definitely see why you slept with him. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You looked like a *fucking* idiot, why were you wearing that?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I needed the disguise to stay under the radar...people kept asking me...questions.”</b></li>
<li>- “What’s this about?” (Move on)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Under the radar? Questions? About the fact that you’re, what, a burnout disaster professor who barely makes it to his own classes even shambling drunk?”</p><p>He takes a deep breath. “Fuck it. Let’s not get into that. What the hell have you got to say for yourself, shitkid?”</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] -</b> Shitkid. What an interesting moniker.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What’s a shitkid?”</li>
<li>- “How did you know I was here?”</li>
<li>- “You’re...post-doctor?”</li>
<li><b>- I’m supposed to remember you.”</b></li>
<li>- “Where have you *been* all this time?”</li>
<li>- “None of this matters, look at this…” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He blinks slowly, “What the *fuck* is that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I don’t know. I just know it.”</b></li>
<li>- “I’ve got amnesia. Total retrograde amnesia. Can’t remember a thing.”</li>
<li>- “The voices in my head said that we had sex.”</li>
<li>- Say nothing.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I -- suppose I’ll explain. Dr. Du Bois seems to have been experiencing a complete lapse in memory since I met him. It’s been very peculiar, but there’s been moments he seemed genuinely unwell.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You pull this shit with me, that’s one thing, what the hell are you thinking doing it with Kitsuragi? In front of Evrart *fucking* Claire, Harry?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”</li>
<li><b>- “I knew it. I’ve never been a rockstar at all. I’ve always been fooling you, all of you.”</b></li>
<li>- “Fuck you. I’m not pulling anything.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Don’t you start that rockstar shit with *me*, shitkid -- “ </p><p><b>YOU -</b> “I told you, I don’t know who *you* are.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Doctors. If we could remain calm for a moment.” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He exhales hard through his mouth, giving your colleague a bracing nod. </p><p>“Okay. Let’s try this again.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “What’s a shitkid?”</b></li>
<li>- “You’re...post-doctor?”</li>
<li>- “I’m supposed to remember you.”</li>
<li>- “Where have you *been* all this time?”</li>
<li>- “None of this matters, look at this…” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You -- *shitkid* -- that’s you.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “But what did I do?”</li>
<li><b>- “But I didn’t do anything?”</b></li>
<li>- Just move on.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Fucking exactly.”</p><p><b>ALGEBRA -</b> Hey now, look at everything we just did? Doesn't that count for anything?</p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Challenging: Success] -</b> It's not the mathematics that's the problem. Never has been. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What’s a shitkid?”</li>
<li>- “How did you know I was here?”</li>
<li><b>- “You’re...post-doctor?”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m supposed to remember you.”</li>
<li>- “Where have you *been* all this time?”</li>
<li>- “None of this matters, look at this…” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Yes, I’m your *goddamn* postdoc, have been for three fucking years. One year too long,” he exhales hard, “Not that you’ll cut me loose.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> He’s in fact, never asked that of you. He doesn’t know how to, and more to the point, he’s worried it would make you unstable.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION  -</b> Instability, yes, the source of our inspiration! </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “If you want to leave so much, why don’t you *go*?”</li>
<li><b>- “What do you mean, cut you loose?”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I even met you.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He looks at you incredulously. “Moving on from being a postdoc, Harry. Lining up for tenure shit, all of that crap. You know how it is,” he sounds hollow and defeated for a moment, “Or I guess you don’t. You’re totally insane, now. Good job.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Sounds like all this is insane to begin with.”</li>
<li><b>- “Alright, I had that coming.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “What, not recognizing people you work with every goddamn day?” he squints, “Brain damage?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What’s a shitkid?”</li>
<li>- “How did you know I was here?”</li>
<li>- “You’re...post-doctor?”</li>
<li>- “I’m supposed to remember you.”</li>
<li><b>- “Where have you *been* all this time?”</b></li>
<li>- “None of this matters, look at this…” [Move on]<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Where have *I* been? Goddamnit Harry, you told me to fuck off. You said I was *cramping your style*. You’re Math God! Fuck everything! All will be subsumed.  Prove or die!”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Did I... prove or die then?”</b></li>
<li>- “All *will* be subsumed, Dr. Vicquemare, make no mistake.”</li>
<li>- “Why would you leave a literal Logic god?”</li>
<li>- “I said all those things? I’m not like that anymore….”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You were crying when I got there. Breaking things. You said you were going ‘into the abyss’.”</p><p>“I sure as shit didn’t want to see the abyss. So I fucked off.” He sighs. “Like you told me to.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What’s a shitkid?”</li>
<li>- “You’re...post-doctor?”</li>
<li>- “I’m supposed to remember you.”</li>
<li>- “Where have you *been* all this time?”</li>
<li><b>- “None of this matters, look at this…” [Move on]</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “None of it -- it fucking *matters*, Harry! You’re goddamn representing us, me, and Jude, and all of École Normale...” he pinches his forehead, “You’re impossible to work with, you make all your damn problems everyone else’s, and most of the time you’re too high off your mind to *listen* to anyone else’s thoughts.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I’m not like that. Kim likes working with me. Kim *wanted* to work with me.”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m not high. I’m not going to do that anymore.”</li>
<li>- “It’s all about the disco math. It’s all about the *rockstar* method.”</li>
<li>- “I’m simply reflecting the reality of a decaying world, losing all logic and meaning.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Alright, I'll bite. Lay it on me, Dr. Kitsuragi. How is it working with *doctor* Du Bois,” he spits your title with barely concealed vitriol as he looks at you. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b>  “Khm,” your colleague flicks his gaze to the board, weighing his options. </p><p>“I’d like to be diplomatic, but truthful. No, none of us wanted to collaborate with Dr. Du Bois. When the organizing committee set out the assignments, I… drew the short straw,” Kim fixes you with a bracing, yet firm look, “Your reputation precedes you as being… unpleasant to work with.”</p><p>
  <b>MORALE -1</b>
</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> It was hard for him to say it with that much kindness. Try your best to accept that. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You've been betraying me this entire time!"</li>
<li><b>- “Was that what you were so nervous about when we met? I’m sorry.”</b></li>
<li>- "I need no one. I was right. Prove or die!"</li>
<li>- "Oh." Stare awkwardly at your shoes.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “He’s sorry. Haven’t heard that one in, oh, a few months at least,” he grumbles, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. But his focus is between the two of you, intent on your reaction. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Yes. I wasn’t anticipating our collaboration to be anything other than an uncomfortable few hours of grilling and monologues. I’m happy to have been wrong though, in spite of the circumstances,” he gestures to the board, “It’s been productive. And...at times pleasant.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> Your postdoc suppresses what might be a snort around his cigarette, glaring at you as he turns to the board. His frown turns contemplative almost immediately, “What is this, Mohanty’s Lemma?” </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Yes. We’ve made what I believe to be significant progress, despite Dr. Du Bois … memory gaps. I think it might be jogging some things back in place.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Yeah, *some* of us have been working.”</li>
<li><b>- Say nothing, simply let the chalkboard speak for itself. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CITATION -</b> A full blackboard is its own message. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He squints, prising the cigarette out of his mouth. His expression shifts to concentration as his eyes run over the board for minutes. “No wait. Hold on. Chalk.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- [Calculator: Medium - RED] - Slap the chalk into his hand.</b></li>
<li>- Ask him for a cigarette.</li>
<li>- Stare blankly at the board of symbols. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He spares you a brief glance, the touch sparking between you, before he begins to scrawl on the board. His writing is tight and neat, and the explanation sprawls out, word after word until it fills most of the final third of the board. </p><p><b>SYMBOLIC LANGUAGE -</b> He favors lengthy explanations, rather than losing people in excess symbols. </p><p><b>CLARITY -</b> Though his writing is hard to read at a distance.  </p><p><b>PROFESSOR -</b> He’s a great lecturer in spite of that.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “That’s -- ” he draws in a gentle breath, “Yes. Yes that’s a promising angle.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Disco as hell.”</li>
<li>- “Hey, what the hell are you doing?”</li>
<li><b>- Say nothing. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Fuck, yes, fuck -- one more,” he wipes his mouth savagely, taking in a deep breath. Then he hunkers down, and in the last uncovered few decimeters of board, finishes the last twist on the contradiction, and scrawls a messy square in four vicious motions. </p><p><b>PRIORS [Trivial: Success] -</b> Gravestone. The gravestone is a square marker that marks the completion of a proof. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague stares at the board, then to your postdoc. Jean exhales, flashing him the first genuine smile you’ve seen since he entered the classroom.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> It's been almost a month since you've seen that smile. </p><p><b>PASSION -</b> You missed it.  </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He turns to you, shaking his head, “You stupid motherfucker. I can’t believe you did this again. Hell. You’ll have *something* to talk about Friday.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Hell yeah. Rockstar does it again.”</li>
<li>- “Actually, Kim and I did it together." </li>
<li><b>- "Actually, all of us did this."</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> "Right, fuck. Sorry about that, Dr. Kitsuragi. I didn’t mean to suggest these weren’t your contributions as well."</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> "Not a problem Dr. Vicquemare."</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> "Call me Vic. Everyone I work with does." </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Do I call you Vic?”</b></li>
<li>- “Team *disco*, welcome aboard.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He glares at you tiredly, "You call me a lot of things, shitkid."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “How about asshole?”</b></li>
<li>- “How about Viccy?”</li>
<li>- “How about lover?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Yeah, fuck you too,” he flips you the bird. You return it. He sighs, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> This isn’t over. He’s still angry. </p><p><b>PASSION -</b> But this? What you did? It helped. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> Your postdoc takes out his own notebook, looking over the board, catching Kim’s eyes as if for permission. For a few minutes the room is filled with nothing but the slow tick of the clock and the gentle scritch of pen on paper. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I’ve almost got this down. I’m not sure how we’ll arrange the collaboration when we write the paper. But I’m all right with sharing this on Friday, if we’re all credited,” he smiles out of the corner of his mouth to Jean, who nods seriously. “It will reflect very well on the success of the conference, I feel.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Team *disco*, welcome aboard.”</b></li>
<li>- “Sounds good.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Khm," he shuts his notebook, reaching for his jacket," Thank you.” </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> He may say very little, but it's been a long time since he's been welcomed with no hesitation. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Shit. Well, Harrier. We have a dinner to get to,” he stubs out the cigarette, fixing Kim with a hopeful look, "Join us? It's just École Normale's usual suspects.” </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I...should probably join the organizing committee. Check in on how things are going. We can compare notes tomorrow, though.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> He doesn’t actually want to go join his organizing committee. </p><p><b>CITATION [Medium: Success] -</b> It is essential that this man network. With you, specifically. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- "Isn't the point of a conference to connect with collaborators? They can spare you for dinner at least."</b></li>
<li>- "Come on, it'll be *disco*"</li>
<li>- "Suit yourself, stay a boring binoclard."</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Hm. I suppose that’s true,” the jacket settles on his shoulder, “I’ll just have to let Alice know before we leave. If you two can hold on a moment…?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Take your time."</li>
<li>- “If it’s okay with Vic, it’s okay with me.” </li>
<li><b>- Give him fingerguns, “No problem. We'll be right here.”</b></li>

</ol>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter coming up now is hilariously timely. The controversy about the abc conjecture has sort of reached a new flamewar, with the author, Mochizuki, posting a 65 page paper (rant?) claiming his opponents are wrong. You can read a <a href="https://www.math.columbia.edu/~woit/wordpress/?p=12220">blog post about it here</a>. . Despite the fact that his abc result is probably at this point not going anywhere, Mochizuki has done some cool work in other number theory problems. </p><p>Other, smaller remarks -- the snark from algebra “infinite hotel rooms and complete obliteration of the concept of motion.” is a reference to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hilbert%27s_paradox_of_the_Grand_Hotel">Hilbert’s hotel paradox</a> and Zeno’s paradox. Just some funky stuff to deal with when it comes to analysis and playing with the infinitesimal heh. </p><p>I was riffing the start of Kim and Harry’s little math adventure from <a href="https://dms.umontreal.ca/~andrew/PDF/NoSiegelfinal.pdf">this paper</a>. I don’t recommend looking at it and I certainly don’t understand it but! It’s good to cite one’s sources.</p><p>The name "Mohanty’s Lemma" is a reference to another fictional math problem "the Mohanty Problem" as featured in the novel <a href="https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/catherine-chung/the-tenth-muse-chung/"> The Tenth Muse</a> by Catherine Chung. I do highly recommend the book, I read it while writing this and found it engaging and inspiring. ‘Mohanty’ in this case is a reference to the feminist writer Chandra Talpade Mohanty. I decided to keep on with that; the "Prescod" conjecture is a reference to Chandra Prescod-Weinstein, an excellent physicist who does feminist research in addition to cosmology. </p><p>Anni Elbers is indeed a fiber artist I’m fond of-- her work doesn’t have much to do with mathematical ramifications, but it evokes a certain something. The line in Kim’s notebook is from the poem "Immersion" by Alice Fulton, specifically from her book "Sensual Math". Lepak has some charming headcanons about Kim having margin poetry in his notes -- I was more imagining him quoting than writing the poem; but the spirit is there. </p><p>Harry doing his little bop is a headcanon due to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanseDan"> DanseDan</a> who did some <a href="https://dansedan.tumblr.com/post/644498063855124480/lately-my-comfort-doodling-fallback-has-been"> absolutely charming art for this AU</a> that I am eternally grateful for. Please click that link, here’s a preview of Harry bopping:</p><p> </p><p>  </p><p> </p><p>The song Harry bops to is a riff on the song Supernature, which I cribbed from <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VjGndhMI5A9tagpa2KcQP?si=HHaCEIkZS96mlmKZUIHhJw">this excellent fanmix</a>. </p><p>A "wild" ramification actually is a math concept, though at that point I’m really just using the mathematics as spice, and anything implied there is above my paygrade to understand (much like that paper I linked ;))  You’re not *actually* getting any insights on the abc conjecture in a fanfiction beyond what you could already read on the internet, heh. </p><p>For those who don’t know the science/math field very well, being a postdoctoral fellow is a kind of job-limbo before getting a tenure track position at a university. They’re usually 2-3 year contracts where you churn out papers for a while until a university will take you. You probably guessed this, but I’ll get into more of Jean and Harry’s history in the next chapter :) </p><p>Thanks so much for reading, comments of course very welcome :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is the lightest on the math/academia so far and leans more so into shippy stuff ^_^ Just so you know what you're here for! </p><p>The translation of Kim's canonical backstory + racism/issues in the academy continues on in this chapter. I'd say it's pretty light, but just heads up for a moment like the pinball backstory. Everything else is just, yknow, chill nerd stuff. </p><p>Harry suffers from some social anxiety + imposter syndrome in the middle part of the fic, but it's all resolved nicely.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>SMALL GRADUATE CLASSROOM - </b>The door shuts behind your colleague, leaving just you and your postdoctoral fellow amidst the settling chalk dust and empty chairs.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He opens his mouth like he wants to say something more, then coughs, flashing you half a glare before he turns back to the board.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Godly: Failure] -</b> ...maybe he hates you?</p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Success] -</b> Your love of mathematics has taken you this far with him.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> But you’ll need more than math to patch up the year or so you put this man through.</p><p><b>PRIORS -</b> You shared a beginning that was more than productive. That still means something to him.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- How can I help?</li>
<li>- Whatever, I don’t need him.</li>
<li><b>- What does he mean to me?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>L’ACADEMIE -</b> The two of you share a bröderbund -- more than simply bound by the academy, you’re bound to survive the academy through each other’s help.</p><p><b>CITATION [Challenging: Success] - </b>The reputation you carry is bound together -- for better or for worse people have a hard time separating it. More often than not “Du Bois and Vicquemare” results come as a pair.</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Failure] -</b> What *was* that last thing he called you? What did it mean?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Why did you call me Harrier?”</b></li>
<li>- “Why are you so mean to me?”</li>
<li>- “What did I do to you?”</li>
<li>- Start erasing the board [Move past it].</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He searches your face with a quiet desperation. You fight to hold his gaze.</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Trivial: Success] -</b> It’s become difficult to lie to this man. He knows all your tells.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] -</b> He desperately wants this to be a lie.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “It’s your name. Harrier du Bois.” his voice is flat as he breaks your gaze.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Why did you call me Harrier?”</li>
<li>- “Why are you so mean to me?”</li>
<li><b>- “What did I do to you?”</b></li>
<li>- Start erasing the board [Move past it].</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“What did you -- god, I can’t -- I won’t start with this right now,” he takes a ragged breath in, pointedly not looking at you.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>He’s trying to maintain some professionalism.</p><p><b>CITATION [Medium: Success] - </b>You did just crush an important outstanding conjecture with a respected colleague.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”</li>
<li>- “Okay. Let’s just move past it.”</li>
<li>- “I’m sorry. It sounds awful. I sound like I was awful. I’m the worst.”</li>
<li>-<b> “Least we got some disco math done, amiright?” </b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Fuck off with that shit,” he pinches his temple, exhausted. Then he exhales, turning to you, “Do I even want to know what the fuck happened?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”</li>
<li><b>- “I don’t think I want to know either.”</b></li>
<li>- “Well. You’re asking the wrong guy.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You know what, you’re right, I don’t. It’s just going to be the same as it’s been for -- over a year.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I hope not.”</li>
<li><b>- “It won’t be.”</b></li>
<li>- “You’re right.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He sucks in his breath through his teeth and looks away from you. You watch him fish out a pack of cigarettes, light another. He takes a drag that you suspect would make another man cough.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Medium: Success] - </b>The pack has three soldiers left. He’s smoked most of it today. Possibly a second, the lucky bastard.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You smoke too much.”</b></li>
<li>- “Can I have a cigarette?”</li>
<li>- “Black lungs, huh…”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You’re telling me that. Funny.” he holds out the cigarette to look at it.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Take the cigarette from him.</li>
<li><b>- Kiss his temple. </b></li>
<li>- [Physical Immersion: Medium - RED] Kiss his lips.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><br/>
<b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He goes still. You can hear his breath quicken, color spreading across his cheeks, “Stop. Kitsuragi could be back at any minute.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> He also thinks you’re a bastard and he’s not sure he should allow this. Or ever should have.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “It’s okay, Kim knows.”</li>
<li><b>- “Okay, I’m sorry.”</b></li>
<li>- [Physical Immersion: Medium - RED] Kiss his lips. (-1 Unprofessional overtures)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He looks at you funny as you move away. You watch the cigarette glow on his lips, “What is it you remember?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “It comes back in flashes. So we were part of the homo-sexual underground together?”</li>
<li><b>- “Some things. It’s like I said. I’m supposed to remember you.”</b></li>
<li>- “Math wasn’t the only thing that was *disco* with us two.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Hell of a lot of other things I wish you *did* remember, shitkid.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Why did you call me Harrier?”</li>
<li>- “Why are you so mean to me?”</li>
<li>- “What did I do to you?”</li>
<li><b>- Start erasing the board [Move past it]. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU </b> - “We don’t need this anymore, yeah?” you wave a hand at the board, glancing at the notebook sitting next to him.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Yeah.” his expression is unreadable as he takes another pull from the cigarette.</p><p><b>LONG AND IMPOSING BLACKBOARD -</b> The brush lets out a gust of white when you take it in your hand. The neat words Kim wrote to begin with vanish in a swoop, melding with yours, and finally with Jean’s verbose, tightly regimented conclusion. The slate is blank again.</p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Easy: Success] - </b>You’re trusting your colleagues notes, hmm? Never took a book of your own, did you love?</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He taps the ash of the edge into the garbage, “Okay. Let’s see if they’ve put the coffee away.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] -</b> That’s as close to a peace offering as you’re going to get.</p><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING EXTERIOR - </b>Lingering in the hallway is a familiar slouched, short figure, orange hair bright against the concrete walls.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Failure] -</b> Goodness! A sibling! They’re multiplying!</p><p><b>CUNOESSE -</b> A shorter child with a spattering of freckles across her face huddles behind Cuno. She has a thick yellow hat tugged down to her eyebrows. “What’s this, huh, Cuno! You some kind of nörtti now?”</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>“That’s him C! That’s my Egg!” he points his bony finger at you, eyes wide and delighted.</p><p><b>CUNOESSE- </b>“He looks like a f*ggot!”</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> He beats his chest with one hand, pointing a grimy fingernail at you “Cuno’s got a f*ggot! Teaches him how to cheat at dice.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He leans in, nicotine thick in his breath and voice, “Harry...who the hell is this?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “This is my child prodigy. Future disco mathematician”</b></li>
<li>- “This is a gremlin that I taught a math problem to.”</li>
<li>- “I don’t know them.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Okay...then. I’ll just let you…” he gestures vaguely with the cigarette.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Hey, where did you go?”</b></li>
<li>- “Hey, Cuno. Ready for more math?”</li>
<li>- “Hey, Cuno, who’s this?”</li>
<li>- “Never mind, you talk to them.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO -</b> “None of your fucking business!” he half yells. From the look in his eyes, he’s not as high as when you met him.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION - </b>He is still on drugs though. The good shit...</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>“Okay, who is this then?”</li>
<li><b>“Okay, I don’t care.”</b></li>
<li>[Conjecture: Easy - White] Convince them to come to dinner with you.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNO - </b>“Cuno doesn’t fucking care.”</p><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>“You tell him Cuno! Don’t let him get near you! Let’s go, Cuno!”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Say nothing.</li>
<li>- “Okay, who is this then?”</li>
<li>- “Ready for more math?”</li>
<li><b>- [Conjecture: Easy - White] Convince them to come to dinner with you. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Easy: Success] </b>- Put two and two together -- the ‘C’ he was talking about earlier? The reason he grabbed two sandwiches? Right here.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Cuno brought sandwiches for you, didn’t he? From lunch?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>“You brought us sandwiches from HIM! It could have been poison! Or an experiment!”</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>The kid spins around, something almost desperate in his frown. He remains completely ignorant of what a ‘whisper’ is, as he hisses in exaggerated tones, “C, we need to eat.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> Now’s your chance! Be cool. They’re not normal kids.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Good timing then, we’re going to dinner. We can do more die tricks on the way.”</b></li>
<li>- “Yeah, what Cuno said. You kids can have dinner with us.”</li>
<li>- “You kids are coming to dinner with us, you clearly need it.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>“You really got the sandwiches from him, Cuno?”</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>He straightens up, raising his voice, “The Cuno’s Egg is on the level. Stacking the dice and loading the deck. Soon C won’t need to steal anything!”</p><p><b>CUNOESSE -</b> She frowns and mumbles, but does little more than glare at you suspiciously.</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>“We’re in,” he nods meaningfully, doing a gesture which you suspect to be an attempt at finger-guns. He has the spirit.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Another flash of orange catches at the corner of your eye -- your colleague -- no, collaborator, emerging from a classroom down another hallway.</p><p>“Ah. I see you’ve found your...unconventional colleague,” he nods at Cuno with a measure of wariness and interest.</p><p><b>CUNO - </b> “The CUNO is back on the team.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>His eyes flicker over to Jean, “Is this a common occurrence for École Normale’s mathematics department? Unusual dinner guests?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Absolutely not. Even for him,” he peers down the winding hallways, “Can you let us know where there’s a phone? I’ll ring us up a cab, the Redbrick isn’t that close.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “No need. I can drive us. If you let me know where we’re headed, even with these two, I believe we’ll all fit.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Sidecar!”</li>
<li><b>- “Sounds disco, thanks Kim.”</b></li>
<li>- “Great, problem solved.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING EXTERIOR</b> - The five of you walk together into the cloudy grey of the coming evening. Kim’s bright blue car sits in waiting, parked neatly along the edge of the sidewalk.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He lets out a low whistle, “Nice MC.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI </b>- “Mhmh,” your colleague smiles ever so slightly, “Want to take a quick look?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Car like this? I’d love a longer tour another time -- looks like it’s packing what, a hundred and thirty?”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>His smile widens, “It’s a seven litre V12, yes. But you’re right, another time. Let’s not keep our dinner company waiting.”</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>“SIDECAR!”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Convince them you should ride sidecar.</li>
<li><b>- Convince Cuno he shouldn’t ride sidecar.</b></li>
<li>- Do nothing, let Kim deal with this obvious conflict.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“Look, Cuno, you better take back with me -- die tricks, right?”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Your colleague says nothing, but there is a notable measure of relief in his eyes.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Settles that,” he claps his hands, “Let’s roll.”</p><p><b>COUPRIS KINEEMA - </b>The five of you pile in, Jean in sidecar, you in the left hand seat, Cuno jammed in the middle beside you, and Cunoesse against the far window. The engine roars to life as Kim tugs the steering levers towards him, Jean watching with guarded interest. The two red-headed gremlins duck and weave, trying to get a view out the window as Cycle vanishes into the distance.</p><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>“Quit squirming, Cuno!” she presses her face to the window.</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>He attempts to shove her face to the side, “I want to SEE!”</p><p><b>TOY MODEL [Easy: Success] - </b>Those kids need something *shiny*!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- [Toy Model: Challenging: RED] Distract Cunoesse. (+2, Fidget spinner)</b></li>
<li>- Chat with Cuno about mathematics again.</li>
<li>- Watch Cycle district out the window.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“Hey, check this shit out, uh -- ” you pull out the spinning device, whirling it with your fingers as Joyce showed you.</p><p><b>CUNOESSE </b>- She snatches it from your hands before Cuno can even make a remark in the third person about it. Pinching it carefully as you did, she spins it with one hand, her brown eyes sparkling with delight.</p><p>
  <b>Item lost: Wild Pines Fidget Spinner</b>
</p><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>She slouches back in her seat. Cuno’s view is now unimpeded.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Chat with Cuno about mathematics again.</li>
<li><b>- Watch Cycle district out the window. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PRISTINE COUPRIS KINEEMA WINDOW</b> <b>- </b>The streets of Cycle whip by, brick and glass buildings shifting from new and glittering to old and crumbling at a rate faster than a city block.</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] - </b>Cycle District has experienced some of the least successful gentrification efforts in Revachol. Money flowed into here and Grand Couron -- it stuck there, and rolled off into the gutter here.</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> He peers around you, eyes going wide, “Shit’s going FAST. Bino’s a fucking crazy driver.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Little bit heavy of foot there, for city driving,” he’s leaning back on the passenger’s seat, still relaxed.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Kim smirks, “You would be too, if you had this motor carriage.”</p><p>He lets up on the gas, just a bit.</p><p><b>PRISTINE COUPRIS KINEEMA WINDOW</b> <b>- </b>The car begins to slow, in fact -- the wheels screeching to an elegant halt in a parking spot along a row of pubs, clothing stores, and novelty shops.</p><p><b>RAINY SIDEWALK IN CENTRAL CYCLE - </b>The kids tumble out of the car together, now scuffling over the spinner. The scent of rain and fumes in the pavement feels familiar as it washes over you.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] - </b>Work hard, party hard. These are our nights, baby!</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>You feel a hand on your arm, tugging you aside.</p><p>“Listen, shitkid. I --” he jams his hands in the pockets of his cloak-like coat, “Look, you want things to be different? Do me a favor. Don’t drink tonight.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I can do that.”</li>
<li>- “No promises. End of day, gotta get disco.”</li>
<li>- “I guess I’ll try…”</li>
<li><b>- “One must face the grim reality what’s coming with a sober mind. I’ve realized this.” </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He sighs, rolling his eyes to the rainy sky, “Sure, Doomclock. I won’t hold my breath.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] - </b>Don’t let him down.</p><p><b>PASSION - </b>You’ll regret it if you do.</p><p><b>COZY, SLIGHTLY GRIMY PUB -</b> You duck in from the patter of the evening rain. The space has a quiet buzz of voices, the lighting a dim palette of browns and yellows. Along one of the walls is a series of pinball machines.</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>“Look C! Look at those!” he points, but she’s already gone, both of them tumbling after the other towards the flashing lights and lurid illustrations.</p><p><b>YOU - </b>As you scan the beaten-wood tables and the peculiar bottle ornaments, a voice cuts through the noise.</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM</b> - “Jean! Over here!” a smiling man wearing a neatly pressed suit waves at him from the side of a huge, round booth. Beside him, on the edge of the booth, is a small boy dressed in what seems like sailor’s attire.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Squint at the other members of the booth.</li>
<li>- Pull Cuno and Cunoesse back to your group.</li>
<li><b>- [Professor: Medium - RED] Approach the booth and try to fall in line with who they expect you to be.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Failure] -</b> WE DON’T KNOW WHO THAT IS! WE NEVER DID!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>Turn around and try to leave.</li>
<li><b>Put your head in your hands and try to talk yourself out of this. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> You press your fingers into the edges of your hairline, wracking your brain for some evidence of -- who you were? You have to stop them finding out...</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Harry -- what the hell?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I don’t know who those people are and they might know me. Sorry. I’m sorry. ”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m having an anxious breakdown because of the amnesia.”</li>
<li>- "The impending swallow has GRIPPED ME."</li>
<li>- “AHH. AHH. AHHHH. NOT DISCO. NOT DISCO AT ALL.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Kim pats your shoulder tentatively, “Situations like these can be stressful even under normal circumstances. You’re at least not the only one who isn’t sure what to make of present company.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah, I’ll handle the introductions,” he scratches the scars on his face, flicking his eyes from the redheaded man back to you.</p><p><b>CITATION [Medium: Success] - </b>These people can be a pack of wolves sometimes, and he knows it.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Just follow my lead -- if you don’t know what to say, I’ll cover for you.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Approach the booth. [Proceed] </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MAN IN A LOUD JACKET -</b> “Oh, great, here comes Dr. Sober.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Shut up, McLaine. We’ve got guests,” he glares at him meaningfully, “From the conference.”</p><p>He gestures to the table, tilting his head at Kim, “Dr. Trant Heidelstam, mathematics education, Judit Minot, Algebraic number theory and Harry’s premier graduate student, this charming motherfucker is Dr. Chester McLaine--”</p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“ *Analytic* topology,” he squints. Jean rolls his eyes.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “And that’s Mik Heidelstam, no field yet, but not for lack of trying from Trant,” he offers a half fond, half exasperated smile. The child shyly waves a blue crayon at him.</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM </b>- “Mik can pick any field he likes when he’s ready -- ones that might not be a ‘field’ in the academic sense at all. He’s good with building things as well,” Trant touches his son’s hat just gently, then turns curiously to the red-headed children who have gathered to the booth, “Now who’s with us this evening?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “This is Dr. Kim Kitsuragi, of Cycle Universite fame. We were lucky enough to have nabbed him for a very productive problem-solving session,” he catches Kim’s eye with a smile. Kim returns it easily.</p><p>“And this is--” he falters, looking at the two kids, then to you.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Introduce Cuno and… the other one. </b></li>
<li>- “Don’t mind them, they’re with me.”</li>
<li>- Say nothing.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“This is Cuno and C -- C… Cunoesse,” the name leaps to your lips unbidden.</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> The gremlin nods vehemently, jerking his thumb to his companion, “You can call her C.”</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“Cuno can do some very *disco* math.”</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“Is that so? We’re lucky to have you both, then.”</p><p><b>COZY BURGUNDY LEATHER BOOTH</b> <b>-</b> Jean slides in beside McLaine, narrowing his eyes at him. Kim follows, with you and the two kids just barely managing to fit in. It’s cozy, but there’s enough room for everyone’s elbows.</p><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>The girl seems to have engaged in a peculiar staring contest with the boy Mik’s forehead. Mik simply turns his head bashfully back down to his crayon drawings.</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM</b> <b>- </b>“Kitsuragi -- a name I’ve heard recently. Of the Forbidden configurations result?”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Failure] - </b>Forbidden...illegal math? Cracking cryptography?”</p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE</b> <b>- </b>“No...the Student’s Free result?” he snorts.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI</b> <b>- </b>“Yes. My reputation precedes me, I suppose,” there’s a distinct note of weariness in his voice. He takes off his glasses and cleans them.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “What’s a forbidden configuration?”</b></li>
<li>- “Student..free?”</li>
<li>- Change the topic.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI- </b>“Tedious discrete math exercise. Matrices of ones and zeros, counting games -- there’s not much to it,” he picks up the menu, scanning it.</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“In fairness, I find them to be genuinely interesting. The Weinman Problem was open for a long time before your work," he turns to the group, his voice soothing and measured as he explains, "Forbidden configurations involve submatrices-- specifically counting all possible matrices that don't contain a particular pattern of 1's and 0's. Occasionally they're of interest to radio computation specialists. But most importantly, they’re an ideal topic for early undergraduates, or talented secondary school students -- the Weinman Problem must have had hundreds of young eyes on it ”</p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“It had a nam-- oof." He goes silent, Jean glaring pointedly at him.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“...yes, I suppose some people do find mathematics education interesting,” he purses his lips at Trant before turning back to the menu.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] -</b> It took effort for him to even put it that diplomatically.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success] -</b> Hardly diplomatic. Backhanded, even.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You don’t seem to like math education very much.”</b></li>
<li>- I’m not going to talk about this anymore.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Fine. I was a contract lecturer for over 15 years. As one sometimes has to start out. I was given -- many undergraduate and high school would-be prodigies to work with. It was assumed I’d have an affinity. Not the case.”</p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT - </b>“Sorry to hear that, Dr. Kitsuragi. It’s the kind of thing I worry about happening to me -- if I can even get a job, once I graduate,” she tilts her head.</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Challenging: Success] - </b>The list of contract lecturer positions at École Normale is sizable. The list of tenure-track positions is barely more than a handful. The candidates are riddled with men like you.</p><p><b>YOU - </b>Like me?</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE - </b>Older, white. And I was being specific; men.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“It’s a challenging proposal for many reasons, even when you do crack a longstanding unsolved problem,” he grimaces, then shakes his head, “Enough about me. Judit Minot, though -- I know of your work, it's quite impressive."</p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT - </b>"Oh, me? Really?"</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>He nods seriously, "Now that it’s published I can admit to being a reviewer for your recent paper on p-class Tower groups.”</p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT - </b>“Oh, I’m guessing you weren’t my second reviewer then,” she makes a face, then appears to catch herself, “Though. They were complimentary after the revisions.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Khm. Quite,” he turns back to the menu. Judit stifles what might be a laugh.</p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT -</b> “The remarks did make the paper much better, more clear,” she flashes him a smile.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Success] - </b>Smooth this out if you can.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I know Kim from his unusually clear dissertation work.”</b></li>
<li>- “I should have known the Student’s Free result!”</li>
<li>- “How do I know you again?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“One of the better things on that endless reading list of yours,” he motions the server over, “Should we order?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Order some food. </b></li>
<li>- Order some alcohol.</li>
<li>- Ask what you should order.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PUB SERVER - </b>You scan the menu and point at a photograph of a colorful looking sandwich. Cuno jumps in to order the same as you immediately, and the rest of the table gives their orders one after the other.</p><p><b>CUNOESSE -</b> Cuno’s companion has tugged off her hat at last, and is walking the fidget spinner around the table on its edge. Her hair sticks in all directions, making her look even more unhinged.</p><p><b>MIKEAL HEIDELSTAM - </b>The boy looks up from his drawing, eyes curious yet tentative, “Is that a fidget? It’s quite nice!”</p><p><b>CUNOESSE -</b> “It’s mine! Tyhmä lapsi,” she whispers under her breath.</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“Oh, are you from Katla?”</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>“Leave her alone!” he leans forward, almost shielding the girl, “C’s -- she’s not from anywhere. She’s just a stray.”</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“Stray as in -- homeless?”</p><p><b>CUNO -</b> The boy puffs up in his seat, “She’s with me. C’s Cuno’s go-to, Cuno’s protecting her. She’s got a home and it’s with *me*.”</p><p><b>CITATION [Easy: Success] - </b>You better dial him back. He needs to hear that he’s in charge there.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Look kid, you need help.”</li>
<li><b>- “We gotta respect Cuno on this.”</b></li>
<li>- “We understand.” (Look meaningfully around the rest of the table)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“Of course,” he turns to his son, again touching the edge of his hat.</p><p><b>MIKHAIL HEIDELSTAM -</b> Mikhail nods, looking to Cunoesse with a gentle smile, “It’s quite all right. It’s your fidget.”</p><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>“You *want* to see it, don’t you?” it’s half a taunt -- and half genuinely curious</p><p><b>MIKHAIL HEIDELSTAM - </b>“Yes. Here, I’ll let you hold my Würm for a moment if you let me see it?” he produces a patchy stuffed dragon, adorned with colorful sequins.</p><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>After a moments consideration, she leaps up to snatch the stuffed creature, leaving the fidget spinner in front of Mik. The boy picks it up consideringly, turning it over before figuring out how to spin it.</p><p><b>REPARTEE [Easy: Success] - </b>An equal exchange.</p><p><b>PUB SERVER - </b>The food arrives on a rickety cart, plates clinking as they’re passed around the table. Cuno and Cunoesse dig into theirs almost immediately. Eventually, a sandwich and a plate of fries finds its way to you. It’s abundant in all components, with an obvious slice of ham -- a fat one, with a brim of tomato poking out.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE [Trivial: Success] - </b> My god...that sandwich...hauntingly beautiful. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Dig into the sandwich. </b></li>
<li>- Listen in to the table conversation.</li>
<li>- [Conjecture: Impossible - RED] Be entertaining without revealing yourself.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>You take a bite of the perfect sandwich. The rich bread and heavy meat restore you, especially after the lunch you had. You realize you are voraciously hungry, and make quick work of your plate.</p><p>
  <b>HEALTH +1</b>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Listen in to the table conversation. </b></li>
<li>- [Conjecture: Impossible - RED] Be entertaining without revealing yourself.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>The excitable math education man appears to have hooked Chester McLaine and Judit Minot into a long conversation about teaching the travelling salesman problem to children. McLaine is nodding half-seriously -- or he might be nodding off. Judit is adding some insightful interjections. She seems to like talking to them. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- And the kids?</li>
<li>- <b>And Jean and Kim?</b>
</li>
<li>- And me?</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Beside you, your postdoctoral fellow is in rapt conversation with your colleague, all animated focus on each other. You catch the word ‘interisolary’ and ‘130 R curves’.</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Failure] - </b>They’re probably talking about teaching second-year vector calculus for physicists.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- And the kids?</b></li>
<li>- And Jean and Kim?</li>
<li>- And me?</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CUNOESSE - </b>The girl has been reunited with her fidget spinner without incident and has somehow acquired crayons of her own. Cuno is watching in approval as she scrawls a truly disturbing picture.</p><p><b>MIKHAEL HEIDELSTAM - </b>Across the table, Mik waves at them, showing a picture of a fire-breathing dragon, its scales multicolored and vivid.</p><p><b>CUNO - </b>“That’s sick,” he nods in approval.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- And the kids?</li>
<li>- And Jean and Kim?</li>
<li><b>- And me?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - </b>“You? Not exactly the life of the party, are you? What are you *really* doing here?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Sink a little deeper in your seat.</li>
<li><b>- Remain very still and try to think no thoughts. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Hey --” he tilts his head around Kim, almost reaching for you, but seeming to think better of it, “You okay, Harry?”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] - </b>You’re usually way more exuberant when they go out.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I think so.”</li>
<li><b>- “Not feeling much like a rockstar...not sure how to feel.”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m sorry. Just really sorry.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Not being drunk off your ass will do that to you,” he replies ruefully.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Your colleague reaches over and pats you gently on the shoulder. The rhythmic motion is soothing. Pat pat pat…</p><p><br/>
“We’re just a group of people having dinner after work. No need to be anything else.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b> Jean stares at him “Yeah. Good call, Kitsuragi.”</p><p>
  <b>MORALE +1</b>
</p><p><b>COZY BURGUNDY LEATHER BOOTH</b> <b>-</b> The meal concludes with hardly a need for rockstar behavior, in any case. Before long the plates are cleared, and your company is shuffling for their coats. The children have grouped together around the pinball machines, a handful of centims between them. Trant and Jean appear to be in brief, if intense conversation, which leaves you and your colleague tidying up your belongings.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
<p></p><blockquote><ol>
<li>- “That was fun. I’m glad you were here.”</li>
<li><b>- “Was that...okay? Sorry.” </b></li>
<li>- “This event filled me with a deep existential despair, a sure sign of the apocalypse.”</li>
</ol></blockquote></blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“It was. More fun than I expected. I appreciate the invitation,” he smiles at you, gesturing towards the door, “Shall we?”</p><p><b>EVENING SIDEWALK IN CENTRAL CYCLE - </b>The rain has petered off, leaving nothing but a series of puddles and the sweet aroma of petrichor. It’s still early yet. Judit Minot offers her apologies, as she has to return to the babysitter. Chester McLaine waves you off with barely more than a backward glance.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Easy: Success] - </b>Think he’s off to find some liquid inspiration...or better.</p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“If you’re not opposed, Jean recommended that your...protégé be invited to my young scholar’s club at École Normale,” he glances back to the kids, who appear to be in a relatively good-natured argument, “I may try to convince them to come back with us to Cycle’s conference hotel in the meantime. If they do have nowhere to go.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “That’s a really good idea, thank you.” </b></li>
<li>- “You should just let them be, they’re probably fine.”</li>
<li>- “Children need to have somewhere to go?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>“Oh, not a problem. Almost part of the job; or-- the intersection of the job and being a father. I’ll keep you informed, one sleep-stay at least is no doubt exciting to young children. Beyond that, a lot will depend on their situation and having adults that they trust.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Yeah, Cuno deserves that. Kids do.”</li>
<li><strong>- “They’ll probably destroy the hotel room.”</strong></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>He laughs, “Oh, possibly. I’ll handle it if so. Have a good night, Harry.”</p><p><b>EVENING SIDEWALK IN CENTRAL CYCLE - </b>With that, he turns to the kids, ushering them off in the direction of a nearby taxi stand. You turn to your colleagues, noticing that Jean has pulled out an ever-present cigarette.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
<p></p><blockquote><ol>
<li>- “Night is still young; about time for getting disco.”</li>
<li>- Ask Jean where you’re supposed to go.</li>
<li><b>- “Well. It’s been an honor, gentlemen.”</b></li>
</ol></blockquote></blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> He snorts, “What’s that shit about? It’s barely 20 h.” His face falls to a serious expression as soon as he says it.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] - </b>He realized you kept your word, staying sober over dinner, and ribbing you about going out isn’t exactly in line with keeping that up.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “We can stay out a little longer if you have ideas.”</b></li>
<li>- “Actually, I want to fly solo for now.”</li>
<li>- “Actually, I just want to go to bed.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>If you do, this will go beyond collegial interactions. It will be as friends.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “How often do you two come to Cycle?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“To be honest, I hardly leave campus. Well. Except when this one makes it out to Boogie Street.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] - </b>He’s pleasantly and profoundly relieved this night hasn’t gone that way.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “If you’re interested in exploring, I could show you some of the locales.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Do you know someplace I can do karaoke? I need to express my vast, oceanic soul…”</li>
<li><b>- “Take us someplace that’s your idea of fun.”</b></li>
<li>- “Where can we boogie?”</li>
<li>- “Sounds like a snooze-fest.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I’m afraid I’m predictable in the field in that I enjoy board games -- however, Zadie’s Tabletop Entertainment Lounge is something of a well kept secret among Cycle students and faculty,” he looks from Jean to you, measuring your reactions.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] -</b> It’s unusual for him to share this about himself. But he’s sorted it under something you’d probably enjoy seeing.</p><p><b>TOY MODEL -</b> Ooh! Some practical applications of game theory!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Yeah, I’m up for it.”</li>
<li><b>- “Sounds very *disco*.”</b></li>
<li>- “Binoclard suggestion. Let’s do something else.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“It’s quite nearby, if you don’t mind walking," he gestures down the road, "About a block in that direction."</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE [Trivial: Success] - </b>Walking? WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT! Hop to, take it at a run!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Walk over there.</li>
<li><b>- Take it at a jog. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU -</b> “Feeling great, let’s go!” you dig your disco-ass shoes into the pavement.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>"Oh god, not this again," he sets off running behind you.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE - </b>THAT’S IT, KNEES HIGH, DOESN’T THIS FEEL GREAT?</p><p><b>YOU - </b>The blood is singing in your ears, no, pounding, no -- are you remembering to breathe?</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE - </b>No, wait, hold on there! Too much, son, too much! STOP!</p><p><b>YOU - </b>You grind to a sudden halt, winded and coughing, trying to press the humid air back into your chest.</p><p>
  <b>HEALTH -1</b>
</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Are you all right?” Kim sounds a little out of breath himself, patting your back gently as you heave in a few breaths.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“He’s probably fine,” Jean doesn’t seem to have broken much of a sweat, even in his heavy cloak. He glances at the building beside you, “Huh. Hell of a place.”</p><p><b>ZADIE’S, TABLETOP ENTERTAINMENT LOUNGE -</b> The neon exterior has a funky glow to it -- pink, red, green. In some ways it truly is disco. The window is draped with blue and purple curtains, between them, a sculpture of a dragon doing battle with an octopus.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Challenging: Failure] -</b> From the exterior you would have expected a different kind of *tabletop* lounge.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE - </b>We would have? With an octopus?</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION -</b> Hey, man, I don’t have to explain myself.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> The red neon highlights the hollows of Jean’s cheekbones, the pocks and scars on his face. He scratches his beard, “Never would have come here on my own, all right.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“It’s unique. Wait until you see the inside.”</p><p><b>ZADIE’S, TABLETOP ENTERTAINMENT LOUNGE - </b>When you duck in the heavy black door, a peculiar mechanical bell sounds. The place is lit in soothing orange and aqua blue, somewhere between lounge and a glow-in-the-dark fever dream. Spaced around the room are round tables of various sizes, surrounded by chairs that range from bar stools to loveseat couches, set with peculiar globelike candle holders in different colors of glass.</p><p>The most prominent feature is an artificial stream, lit by blue lights and marked by a wooden bridge in the center of the room. All the tables that sit near it are filled, groups of three or four people staring intently at their boards or rubbing dice together in eager hands.</p><p><b>TOY MODEL [Challenging: Failure] - </b>I have no idea why any of this is like this. I LOVE IT.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You weren’t kidding, Kim. I’ve never seen anything like this.”</b></li>
<li>- “This location embodies the insanity that will envelop the world.”</li>
<li>- “This is too much. Let’s go someplace else.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“It’s more low-key than you’d expect. Sometimes I sit in the back and grade papers. The chatter, especially at mid-day, is really more like a cafe than a lounge," his eyes catch an aerostatic model hanging from the ceiling with a distant sort of fondness.</p><p><b>HUGE RICKETY SHELF OF BOARD GAMES - </b>The unpainted wooden shelf is jammed from floor to ceiling with games, some of the names too faded to even read, others still in plastic.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Should we go with Suzerainty? Something different?” his eyes flicker over the beaten-up cardboard boxes, “Shit, they’ve got Wirrâl too…”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I don’t remember what any of those games are.”</li>
<li>- “Suzerainty sounds good.”</li>
<li>- “Can we just play cards?”</li>
<li><b>- “Let’s go with Wirrâl.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You’re joking, right? I’m not starting a ten hour roleplaying game the night before we’re expected to show up for a conference. Come on.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I don’t remember what any of those games are.”</b></li>
<li>- “Suzerainty sounds good.”</li>
<li>- “Can we just play cards?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “I am partial to Suzerainty.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Partial meaning -- good at it?”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Depends on the definition of ‘good’.” he smiles evasively.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Am I good at Suzerainty?”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m sure Kim is the best at Suzerainty.”</li>
<li>- “I’m sure Jean is the best at Suzerainty.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Don’t remember. Between the math and everything else, you haven’t been sober enough to play a game for months,” he tugs out the box, “Suzerainty it is, then.”</p><p><b>ZADIE’S, TABLETOP ENTERTAINMENT LOUNGE - </b>The three of you take up in a quiet corner, the flickering candles providing a fair amount of the light against the overhead glow. Jean takes a seat in a beat-up green armchair, Kim pulls up the antique-looking black wooden chair -- which leaves the bright red metal chair for you. A server comes by, you order the same soda that Kim does.</p><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>Jean opens up a number of pouches with wooden tokens, well-worn cardboard components that are frayed along the edges.</p><p><b>TOY MODEL [Easy: Success] - </b>Well loved! This is a great game.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Should we review the rules before we play?” he glances at you.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
<p></p><blockquote><ol>
<li>- Read the rules.</li>
<li>- Get Jean to explain the rules.</li>
<li><b>- “Nah, I’ll just wing it.” </b></li>
</ol></blockquote></blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I see you bring the same unorthodox technique to playing board games as you do to mathematics…”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You want to give it a look, the manual is still in the box.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Ah, no,” he smiles, almost sharklike, “I know the rules.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Kim picks the right card to go first. He draws a contract card and moves several of his workers to the Safre territory of the board and the others to the Semenine Islands…</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Next, Jean -- his workers head to Île Marat, and some others *also* to territory on the Semenine island. Kim laces his gloved hands together, studying the move with interest.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Alright, shitkid. Your turn.”</p><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>You have a few options available to you: Will you try to fulfil contracts right away, or rearrange your workers to maximize production on future turns?</p><p><b>REPARTEE [Medium: Success] - </b>I’m guessing it’s best to choose a strategy and stick to it.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Try to fulfil a contract.</li>
<li><b>- Let your workers rest for a while. </b></li>
<li>- Just do whatever Jean did.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>What? It’s the very beginning of the game. Your workers haven’t even done any work yet!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
<p></p><blockquote><ol>
<li>- Let them rest anyway.</li>
<li><b>- Okay, make them work a little, but not *too* much. </b></li>
</ol></blockquote></blockquote><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>That’s more like it. You produce a handful of archaeological treasures and a smattering of other resources.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Meanwhile, Kim spends two of his sugar and one of his apricot tokens to complete his contract card. He is rewarded with four coins and a round wooden token that he places at the center of the board… “Point, for two.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Market, huh?” he spends a few pieces of his own, completing a different contract card for a blue-painted wooden token. He places it in the center of the board, “Point, for three. More of a temple man myself.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I’ve played that way before. It has its definite advantages,” he tilts his head consideringly at Jean.</p><p><b>REPARTEE - </b>But it’s not necessarily enough, Kim seems to be saying.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Alright, your move Harry,” his gaze is mostly focused on Kim’s workers on the board.</p><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>Glancing over the board, you see several possible strategies. Potentially. Mostly you see a lot of Jean and Kim’s markers, marking their various territories.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Invest in your existing workers. </b></li>
<li>- Press more workers into service.</li>
<li>- Focus on fulfilling contracts.</li>
<li>- “I’m bored with this. Let’s do something else.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>Soon, your workers have access to clean water, paved roads, and basic hobbies. In return they produce...one extra resource per turn.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> Hardly dwelling on your move at all, Kim immediately moves to take territory in Supramundi and Saramiriza. “Point.” he adds quietly.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Right, now, that’s one way to play it…” he murmurs under his breath. After a moment, he counters Kim’s move, but at the cost of completing a contract.</p><p>Both of them turn to you expectantly, eager to get on with their moves.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Wait, this is going to be the whole game, isn’t it?</b></li>
<li>- They’re not even paying attention to what I do!</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>Maybe *someone* should have taken the rules more seriously.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Sigh and make a move at random. </b></li>
<li>- Flip the table over.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Over time, Kim accrues something of an apricot empire. Jean makes advancement in cotton and stone -- churning out statues to enhance his spirituality-obsessed empire. The turns continue exchanging with Jean and Kim carefully counting the points between them.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Right, so this is a shitkid-level move, but --” he grins, then moves his tokens to Kim’s side of Safre, introducing the workers to cocaine.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Make another random move.</li>
<li><b>- There’s really no point, now, is there?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CLARITY - </b>Oh, but watching them go at it is fun, isn’t it?</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Trivial: Success] - </b>...point.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>The move turns to Kim again, he rests his chin on his steepled fingers, analyzing the board, “Hm, we’re not playing timed, are we?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Never have, never will. You can take as long as you like to think about that move,” he leans back in the worn green chair, all confidence.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI -</b> “Appreciate it,” he smiles out of the corner of his mouth.</p><p><b>PASSION [Trivial: Success] - </b>Now’s your chance to get some answers out of them.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Take a sip of your soda and watch them.</li>
<li><b>- [Passion: Medium - RED] Ask Jean why he *really* stays at École Normale. (-1 Kim present)</b></li>
<li>- [Debater: Godly - WHITE] - Come up with a reason Kim should tell you a secret (+1 Jean present, +3 Collaborators)</li>
<li>- Zone out while they finish the game. [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Failure] - </b>It’s already a lost cause. He’s said he wants to be cut loose. There’s nothing you can do. You might as well get him to say it.</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“Are you really planning to leave me?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He chokes on his drink, “Harry -- the hell does that mean?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You said … cut you loose, right?"</b></li>
<li>- “I have to know."</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Look, it’s just -- career stuff, right? Let’s forget about it for tonight. Hell, I don’t want to think about it right now…” he casts a slightly frantic glance to Kim, who is cleaning his glasses with interest.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>You'd better clarify the situation.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Sorry, um. Kim knows we're…" Make a vague gesture.</b></li>
<li>- "Right, yes, career stuff only. Nothing but career stuff between us. Definitely."</li>
<li>- I don't need to explain myself.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“We’re--” he stares a moment at your helpless gesticulating, “Wait. Fucking hell, shitkid.” He pinches his brow, cheeks crimson.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Kim slips his glasses back on his face, giving Jean a bracing look, “It’s all right, if you were worried. I’ve never been the type to engage in gossip. It’s your business.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“God, fuck -- I just want to be clear, I’m not a masochist, okay? We’re not -- together…"</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Sorry I brought it up, then.”</li>
<li>- “What are we, then?”</li>
<li><b>- “Why do you stay then?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Khm. You two do have a successful collaboration that’s the envy of many. And it's challenging finding people who aren't intolerant or peculiar about homosexuality," he tilts his head, "I know from experience."</p><p><b>PASSION - </b>Ah, now -- I was hoping to hear that.</p><p><b>MENTOR -</b> This *does* explain a few things about his reaction earlier....</p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>Hush, we barely know anything about what being homo-sexual *is*, much less what we’d do knowing Kim is.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION - </b>Got some ideas.</p><p><b>PASSION - </b>Okay, so ...still not *now*.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He locks eyes with Kim for a moment, half gratitude, half-apology. “Yeah, uh -- sorry that he dragged you into that.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“For what it’s worth, it was nothing explicit. Patchy memories I suppose…” he glances to you with a measure of concern.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I was worried I’d done something bad.”</li>
<li><b>- (To Jean) “I was worried about your honor.”</b></li>
<li>- “Sometimes I just...say things.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, worry less about *me*, shitkid.”</p><p>“Though -- fuckit, speaking of gossip,” he points at you, “I know there’s a lot of shit said about him, and a lot of it is true. But the rumors that I do all the work these days, that he’s past his prime-- that’s not.”</p><p>He takes a steadying, ragged breath, “You’ve been a lot of things, shitkid, but a lazy author isn’t one of them. Sometimes I wish you’d let up on it, actually.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I’ll do that then.”</b></li>
<li>- “Bullshit, I’ve got theorems to prove.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You don’t have to -- look, don’t take that too seriously. I barely know what I mean,” he runs a hand down his face, staring at you with confusion for a moment before turning back to the game board.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] - </b>He’s trying to remember if you used to be like this sober. It’s been a while.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“If you’ve got something -- someone that sustains your momentum, it can become easy for other aspects of life to slip away,” he contemplates the colored tokens, “God knows we wouldn’t be here if obsessive progress at math wasn’t at least somewhat attractive, if unhealthy.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “Fuck,” he murmers softly. Kim looks up at him. He shakes his head, “You’re right. There’s more out there than proofs and sometimes it feels good to forget it.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Khm,” he breaks Jean’s gaze, the candlelight shadowing his dark eyes, “Indeed.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Take a sip of your soda and watch them. </b></li>
<li>- [Debater: Godly - WHITE] - Come up with a reason Kim should tell you a secret (+1 Jean present, +3 Collaborators)</li>
<li>- Zone out while they finish the game. [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Kim’s focus is entirely on the game, assessing his position with unguarded attention. His brow furrows as he takes in the map, his posture relaxed.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] - </b>This is the first time, you realize, that you’ve seen him give his attention undivided to a task. Even in your collaboration, there was a part of him always measuring your reactions, responding to them.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Jean’s gaze flickers from you, to Kim, and back again.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Godly: Failure] - </b>He’s nervous he’s going to lose.</p><p><b>TOY MODEL - </b>What! With that board?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Take a sip of your soda and watch them.</li>
<li><b>- [Debater: Godly - WHITE] - Come up with a reason Kim should tell you a secret (+1 Jean present, +3 Collaborators)</b></li>
<li>- Zone out while they finish the game. [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>DEBATER [Godly: Success] - </b>But you don’t really need to ask, do you? After all you know now?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Guess I know a secret about you now, Kim.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>He leans back from the board, regarding you over his glasses. “And what did you suppose was a secret?”</p><p><b>PASSION- </b>Think. Something only you -- only the three of you know.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “That you’re a member of the homo-sexual underground.”</b></li>
<li>- “That you don’t like discrete mathematics.”</li>
<li>- “That you don’t like teaching children.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“The best kept secrets in the way they’re said,” he murmurs quietly, then straightens his back suddenly, “That’s ah -- it’s from a poem. Not a secret.”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Challenging: Success] - </b>The poet is Aleandre Clarent. Revacholian poet, he penned multiple love poems to the man he lived with.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Aleandre Clarent, right?"</b></li>
<li>- "Well I'll keep your secret then."</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“...yes,” he makes a very deliberate study of the board. The lighting may be dim, but you swear there’s a red tinge to his ears.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Take a sip of your soda and watch them.</li>
<li>- <b>Zone out while they finish the game. [Proceed]</b>
</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>At last, with surgical precision, Kim shifts his workers into a new position around Safre and Île Marat. The pattern they make is a triangulation around Jean’s territory.</p><p><b>SUZERAINTY, THE BOARD GAME - </b>The next few moves pass like a whirlwind, points being traded one after the other -- for every move Jean makes, Kim has an equally clever counter-move, and soon it’s Jean’s</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Motherfucker,” he says with a quiet whistle.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>He sits back in his chair with a grin, “Well, I hope you learned your lesson.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Read the rules before playing?"</b></li>
<li>- “I’m not actually good at Suzerainty?”</li>
<li>- “Never play board games?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Jean snorts, “What, getting involved in a trade war in Insulinde? Fair enough.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Never fuck with Kim Kitsuragi.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He laughs, loud and raucous, “Great game. Shit. That was really impressive. Would do that again anytime.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Thank you,” he glances to his digital watch, “I...suppose it’s late.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“...yeah, guess so,” he turns to you with quiet resignation, “I-- told Trant he could give those kids my room, if that was easier, so I’ll be going with you tonight.”</p><p><b>ZADIE’S, TABLETOP ENTERTAINMENT LOUNGE - </b>You gather your things, Jean dropping a handful of bills on the table and waving Kim off. As you walk out of the peculiar neon lights and into the evening chill, you feel the warmth at the table lingering between you.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I can give you a lift to where you’re going, if you’d like.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Thanks uh -- you don’t have to do that. We can get a cab, you already drove us here.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“All right. If that’s what you’d prefer.” he turns back to his Kineema, his silhouette framed by the streetlight.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Say goodnight and leave with Jean.</li>
<li>- Leave alone.</li>
<li><b>- [Passion: Challenging: RED] - Convince Kim to come with you. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Easy: Success] - </b>Wait seriously? We can do that?</p><p><b>PASSION [Challenging: Success] - </b>*We* can’t. But he can.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>(Nudge Jean with your arm) “What, you gonna let him go just cause he kicked your ass at Suzerainty?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He lets out a pained groan, running a hand over his cheek, “How are you constantly the source of my best and worst ideas?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Sheer talent, baby.”</b></li>
<li>- “You love it.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah, fuck you too. That’s a promise,” he mutters, then calls out to the figure by the car, “Kitsuragi -- ah. Kim.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“..yes?” he turns back, a smile playing on his lips, “It’s all right if you changed your mind, it’s really no trouble.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Come with us, if you want to. Um,” he scratches the side of his beard, “Nothing serious just. If you wanted to.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>He stands stock still, the light shadowing his eyes into an unreadable expression. Then after a beat of silence, he speaks.</p><p>“God help me, I think I do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Forbidden configurations are a very niche discrete math problem that used to be a common topic for first year summer research students at my university. One of my favourite anecdotes is the summer student working on it being asked at a chill seminar session "what are the applications for this topic?" and him turning to his supervisor like "well?" The supervisor responded with "....other discrete mathematicians are very interested in them" lmao. </p><p>The "Student's Free" result is a derogatory reference to the "Student's T" statistical test; nothing against that, I just needed something that had a similarly shitty tone to "Kimball" and evoked math stuff. As are almost all results solved by the characters here, the "Weinman Problem" is fictional. The name evokes Carl Weinman, a physics education specialist. </p><p>Kim being Judit's second reviewer is a reference to a common joke in academia where Reviewer 2 is the one to absolutely shred your work. I imagine Kim to be a harsh reviewer but -- out of love and with good attention to detail, heh. </p><p>Not sure if it's obvious but the PRIORS check failure misread Jean and Kim's conversation -- they're talking about TipTop racing, not calculus XD</p><p>Zadie's Entertainment Lounge is not a real place, but damn, I wish it was. My brain mashed up a bunch of high-character settings that I'm hankering for. I've been to board game cafes, obviously, but the vibe of this place is more of a "weird indoor minigolf bar". Would love to exist there sometime. </p><p>Hope you enjoyed this chapter, comments and thoughts welcome! If you're here for the OT3, I'm going to write a one-shot outtake between Ch 5 and Ch 6 that is...spicy :) If you're just here for the math, stay tuned, the story will conclude in 2-4 business weeks. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is it, folks &lt;3 Glad you've made it to the end. This chapter is a little longer, but I hope it's nice to read :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING EXTERIOR - </b>You tilt your head up the length of the huge, imposing concrete. The doors shimmer, an ominous murk coalescing behind the windows. There’s something unsettling about the texture of the light. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Enter the building.</li>
<li><b>- Pace around the grounds.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>You turn your back on the building almost deliberately, following the interlocked pavement stones to -- a church on the edge of the path. The wood on the outside is worn and salt-stained, the smell of rot tinging the air. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Wait, where is this?</b></li>
<li>- Enter the church. (Proceed)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PRIORS - </b>Somewhere you’ve been.</p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Medium: Success] - </b>The orientation is hopeless. A glass-blown loop without boundary that can only exist without self-crossing in four dimensions -- you’re always going to lose yourself here. Always. </p><p><b>DOLORIAN ERA CHURCH - </b>Inside, the dry wood creaks and heaves under your steps. You think you hear birds in the rafters -- but the sound is muffled somehow, suddenly cutting off in your ears. </p><p>To your left, a stained glass window, awe-inspiring and beautifully whole, towers over the space. In white, silver, and apricot faïence, the young mother of humanism stands above you. She is impossibly tall, oval-faced and sad -- a dark and radiant majesty.</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] - </b>Dolores Dei -- the innocence of humanism, internationalism, and the welfare state. Her lungs glow from the light behind them. She is wearing a white dress, riveted with gold. She towers among her followers: architects, laymen, courtiers. There is a sad smile on her lips and a glint in her green-blue eye -- of what? Compassion? Remorse?</p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>Footsteps sound behind you. You turn to see the image of the beautiful Innocence herself, a wreath of gold light framing her long hair. Her clothing, however, doesn’t match the stained glass. Rather than a silk gown, shimmering in the half-light of the window, she wears a white business suit and a blood-red tie. In her hands she holds a slim briefcase, a heavy silver watch on her left wrist. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “H- hey.”</li>
<li><b>- “What are you wearing?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>She sighs, “It’s professional clothing, Harry. Just a crisp suit. It’s how people perceive someone in my position.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “In your position?”</li>
<li><b>- “Cool.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b> “I know it’s not what you prefer,” she looks at her watch, not knowing what more to say, then over her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
<b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Medium: Success] - </b>Silence, the suit cut to razor sharp, emphasizing the angles of her holy body…</p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“Anyway.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Something is off. About this place.”</li>
<li><b>- “Don’t you have time to tend to my emotions?”</b></li>
<li>- “Where are you going?”</li>
<li>- “Can you stay for a moment? We need to talk. We need to have one more massive, epic showdown.”</li>
<li>[Passion - Challenging -RED] Kiss her. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>She laughs, sharp and cruel, “You were always saying things like that, weren’t you, Harry?” </p><p>She then turns to her watch again. You can hear the ticking in your ears, feel it loud and clear. “I have more to tend to than that.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Something is off. About this place.”</li>
<li>- “You don’t have time to tend to my emotions?”</li>
<li>- “Where are you going?”</li>
<li><b>- “Can you stay for a moment? We need to talk. We need to have one more massive, epic showdown.”</b></li>
<li>[Synthesis - Challenging -RED] Kiss her. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b> “No, Harry.” She shakes her head sadly. “No. I don’t want to have a * <em> massive epic showdown </em>*. I want to go to the aerodrome. I have tickets for the 10:20 flight to Mirova…”</p><p>She looks at you plaintively, “I have technology to pitch. Shareholders to meet.”</p><p><b>APPLICATION - </b> Years ago, you caught her bright eyes showing a model of an aerostat engine, and began an argument with her on the spot. You were hopelessly drawn to her, the whip-sharp intensity she argued with. She laughed in your face when you tried to quote a <em> Volta </em> to her, and you were gone in a moment. </p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“We don’t have anything to *talk* about anymore. Every combination of words has been played out. The atoms don’t form us anymore, our love, our unborn daughters…” she clicks her tongue. Her sharp eyes hold unimaginable truth, “It’s all gone. I have to go to the aerodrome. I have to leave Revachol and you. And you have to be alone -- in hell, forever. That’s just the way it is.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “But...that’s not a very good way for things to be.”</li>
<li>- “I get the feeling you’re not really Dolores Dei.”</li>
<li><b>- “But you said I have a cosmic and infinite soul and you will always come back to it.”</b></li>
<li>- “War criminal!”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“We both said a lot of things. We were very naive.” </p><p><b>SYMBOLIC LANGUAGE [Easy: Success] - </b>It was her. I can see it in her tender, long fingers. In her wrists. She commands the language that seduced us. That drew us away from our simple, artfully defined world.</p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] -</b> From frying pans to blazing infernos, we wanted nothing more than to do right by her Truth.</p><p><b>PASSION [Godly: Failure] -</b> We can win her back. With that same Truth.</p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“We will always have what was.” she draws the briefcase closer to her and smiles faintly: “I will always be *influenced* by it. But it is over. Now only total, unrelenting hell remains.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “But...that’s not a very good way for things to be.”</li>
<li>- “I get the feeling you’re not really Dolores Dei.”</li>
<li><b>- “War criminal!”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“Who says that? I have ruled with discernment, clarity, and temperance. It’s perfectly natural to have an Army of Humanity. I am the innocence of Humanism. And I’ll make whatever arms design contributions I see fit.”</p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“Besides, you’re only saying this because things didn’t work out between us.” she stops. “I really have to go to the aerodrome. I don’t have time for this.”</p><p><b>PASSION [Easy: Success] - </b>Stop making her angry! She won’t start loving you again if you call her a war criminal. Seriously. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Would you say you didn’t behave like a war criminal with me?”</li>
<li><b>- “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re clever and full of divine wisdom, not a war criminal.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“Divine...I’m not that either. Can’t I just *be*?” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “But...that’s not a very good way for things to be.”</li>
<li><b>- “I get the feeling you’re not really Dolores Dei.”</b></li>
<li>- “War criminal!”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“I don’t know what you mean, Dolores Dei?” she looks at you quizzically. It  seems like a theorem she does not wish to prove.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You’re… the *ex-something*.”</li>
<li><b>- “You’re…” (Point to your head.) “The Pale. The Truth.”</b></li>
<li>- “You’re just a shadow. We’re all shadows on the cave.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI -</b> “The Pale? I don’t understand. You could say The Pale is what I study, if you want to define me as that. You know I don’t think of myself as an academic, Harry… and as to the truth. Well, if it’s useful, I suppose.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “No. I meant -- I’m reaching through the Pale to you. You’re out there.”</li>
<li><b>- “I never know what you mean by *useful*.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“No. I suppose you didn’t.” She breathes out. It sounds more angry than a sigh.</p><p><b>DEBATER [Easy: Success] - </b>This...is a bit *much* for me. It feels like your ribs are cracking around your lungs. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Then why are we doing this?”</b></li>
<li>- “But -- I thought if I proved the damned thing, it would help.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“Why, why, why. Grotesque questions. Useless. The ones I kept asking you,” As she raises her voice, it just as soon dies in the strange emptiness of the space. The bright red of her tie almost throbs in the half-light.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Medium: Success] - </b>A thousand times, you beaten animal. A thousand times you’ve unknotted that fabric. The flesh underneath has always calmed you, centered you. Made you sane. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Something is off. About this place.”</b></li>
<li>- “Where are you going?”</li>
<li>[Synthesis - Challenging -RED] Kiss her. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“You know, don’t you. You have a *theory*. Mine, in fact,” she gestures to the ceiling, and then opens her mouth to sing a soft, pure note. The sound dies, decaying into absolute nothingness.</p><p><b>APPLICATION [Challenging: Success] - </b>To my ears, that isn’t any resonance or  sound-blocking technology that exists. </p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>When you turn back to her, her form is shrouded in a formless mist. One that’s all too familiar to you...</p><p>“You see the way it’s swallowed? Faster than any damping? That’s the pale, in its infancy, Harry. Couched and covered in this monument to human delusions. It someday will metastasize -- like a cancer or a mould -- erupting into points *inside* the world.”</p><p><b>APPLICATION [Easy: Success] - </b>Ask her what you can do with it! Maybe she’ll like that...</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “That’s horrifying.”</li>
<li>- “That completely makes sense. The impending swallow…”</li>
<li><b>- “What can it be *used* for, then?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>She laughs, gently, “You never asked that. And when you did, you answered it in the way no sane person would. Of course. Always chasing your Truth. Never focusing on the bigger picture.”</p><p>“Now,” she checks her heavy, silver watch, “I have to go.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Will we ever see each other again?”</b></li>
<li>- “No…”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“I won’t see you, but you will see me.”</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“How can that be?”</p><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“Oh Harry, this is a dream, can’t you see? I’m already in Mirova by now. Who knows how long ago this happened.” She looks around. “A year, two, *five* years ago? The places are different. Sometimes it’s in your office. Sometimes it’s after some gibberish irrelevant talk of yours. I’m suffocatingly beautiful. And young. The chalk dust has been cleaned from my hands, and I ask for your forgiveness. As I leave you, just as the first time, so long ago...”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “But this is intolerably bad.”</li>
<li><b>- “But this time was supposed to be different. This place...”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORES DEI - </b>“There is no difference. Nothing you prove or learn will logic your way out of this. This is real darkness. Real darkness has love for a face. The first death is in the heart, Harry. The first death is for what you love.”</p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Failure] - </b>No. No, no no no -- that can’t be -- </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Don’t go -- I can’t be alone in this!”</li>
<li><b>- “This is total annihilation. I -- I --”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>DOLORIAN ERA CHURCH - </b>The cries die in your throat, stuck -- by the space? By the growing oblivion seeded here, that you sought. Then. A sound cuts through oppressive silence, a voice. Calling your name, quiet and sure… </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Harry. Harry. Wake up.”</p><p><b>YOU - </b>You bolt upright, almost knocking into the figure hunched above you on the bed. You take in the dull patterned wallpaper, the scratch of the sheets on your bare skin. Sunlight filters in through the window-shades. This is just another anonymous hotel room. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Medium: Success] - </b>Another place to throw ourselves headlong into brain damage?</p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>...oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Sorry. Shit, I. I’m so sorry.”</b></li>
<li>- “Nothing to worry about. Totally an invigorating sleep.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“No need to be. Just a nightmare,” he looks you over with concern, sitting close enough on the bed for you to feel his warmth through the thin blanket. He’s fully dressed. You glance around him to the window, taking in the bed to your right, slightly mussed, but still neat. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE [Trivial: Success] - </b>Jean suggested a room with two beds. The two of you are used to sleeping with another body. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION - </b>Not that you spent much of last night sleeping. Things got pretty *disco*, remember?</p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>Okay, while I’m glad we made some good memories, can we focus on the reasons why we don’t remember...anything else?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Let the dream slide away from you, without insight.</li>
<li><b>- Focus on the dream before it vanishes.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>You close your eyes, letting the scene and its memories vanish. Trying to recall -- another hotel room. Where in the bleak midnight hours of a magnum bottle of Commodore Red, you left -- to find a substance that would alter your mind permanently. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Godly: Failure] - </b>Turn that shit *off* permanently.  </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>When your eyes shock open, Kim is still watching you. </p><p>“Are you...okay?” his eyes flicker to the space beside you on the bed. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Beside you, Jean is sprawled out, face down on the pillow, his muscled back bare underneath the rumpled sheets. You watch the rhythm of his breaths against the purple marks on his collarbones. He’s still fast asleep. </p><p><b>STAMINA [Challenging: Failure] - </b>I guess he’s used to sleeping through your dream-yelling. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b> We can’t tell him, or Kim, what we just saw.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p><b>PASSION - </b>...no. I -- think we have to.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “It wasn’t just a nightmare, Kim -- I. Remembered something.”</li>
<li><b>- Try to stay silent. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>A lump forms in your throat. Tears well into your eyes. Of all the imagined failures you’ve hidden from everyone whose expectations you could never hope to meet -- this -- is far more real than any of your worst guesses as to why your memory is in tatters.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b> Your colleague -- friend, good god, your lover, <em> Kim </em>, tilts his head at you with concern. He presses a warm cup into your hand. You stare for a moment at the thin green plastic. </p><p>“It’s coffee. Not particularly good, but. Khm,” he presses his lips together, then seems to come to a decision, “Do you want to talk about the dream? The talks start late today. We have some time before we should get going.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I don’t know where to start.”</li>
<li>- Take a sip of the coffee.</li>
<li><b>- [Stamina: Challenging - WHITE] Explain what you saw.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHECK FAILURE</b> </p><p><b>STAMINA [Challenging: Failure] - </b>...we can’t take it. That’s why we did it and we can’t -- say it-- </p><p><b>YOU - </b>You stare, feeling the tears dripping into your beard. You open your mouth to say something but -- nothing comes out but a strangled, sad noise.  </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Jean rolls with a grunt into you, tossing his arm carelessly across your thighs. He nudges his head against your body, his grey eyes focusing on the cup in your hand. He lurches upwards, slipping it out of your fingers</p><p><b>PASSION [Easy: Success] - </b>Muscle memory, more or less. </p><p><b>CITATION - </b> Quick, you can’t let him know you’ve been <em> crying </em>. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Brush the tears off your face before Jean sees. </b></li>
<li>- Tell Jean you had a nightmare. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>You manage to disguise rubbing your face dry as a sleepy gesture. Jean is preoccupied with the coffee -- for now. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Kim watches you with concern, his gaze flickering from you to Jean.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b>He’ll follow your lead -- and Jean’s. The dynamic you share is a bit hard to read. </p><p><b>PASSION - </b>That’s part of the draw, for him. You’re a puzzle box. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He makes a grimace as he sips the coffee, his eyes fluttering open, “This isn’t how you take your coffee.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Kim waves dryly from his seat at the edge of the bed. A flush spreads over Jean’s cheeks as Kim holds out his hand for the cup, “I can get you one, if you can stomach the grittiness. How do you take it?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Uh -- one sugar, that’s it,” he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Kim gets up from his seat and over to the coffee maker, steaming on the edge of the scraped up wooden desk next to the window.</p><p><b>REPARTEE [Medium: Success] - </b>Hold on there, Kim isn’t going to ask you?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Wait. You know how I take my coffee?”</b></li>
<li>- [Passion: Easy - RED] - Kiss Jean good morning.  </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Assuming you take it the way you dressed it yesterday morning, then yes,” he adds three sugar to the tiny cup, offering you a bracing smile as he passes you the warm cup. </p><p><b>PASSION [Challenging: Failure] - </b>He was really gone on you that fast?</p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE - </b>Or...the amount of sugar you take is just that ridiculous.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Thanks. Usually I do that.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I was up first; it’s no trouble,” he perches on the edge of the bed, further from you, but still studying Jean with a curious sort of intensity. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Medium: Success] - </b>He’s trying to keep things light, wondering when to pivot back to professionalism. </p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Challenging: Success] - </b>It’s taking effort. The night’s events have woven a knot that it will take more than the Reidermeister moves to untangle. </p><p><b>ANALYSIS - </b>Trefoil knot. </p><p><b>MENTOR - </b>Analogies aside, though -- give him some leeway in setting the pace. Be honest. You’re not just colleagues anymore. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “So uh. About that math, right...”</li>
<li><b>- Take a sip of the coffee.</b></li>
<li>- [Stamina: Challenging - WHITE] Explain what you saw. (+1 Jean awake)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>The warm liquid is gritty -- but sweet, nonetheless. The warm light in the room sharpens for you, the edges of the peeling red wallpaper catching your eye. You feel your breath steady a bit as the caffeine gets going through your body. </p><p>
  <b>MORALE +1</b>
</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Beside you, Jean straightens up, humming as he sips at the coffee, “I *know* this is the same shit brand that’s at every conference motel he insists we stay at… but it does taste fucking better when someone else makes it, so seriously, thank you.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“My pleasure,” he turns his gaze down, taking a sip of the coffee. The tips of his ears are pink. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “So uh. About that math, right…”</li>
<li>- Take a sip of the coffee.</li>
<li><b>- [Stamina: Challenging - WHITE] Explain what you saw. (+1 Jean awake, +1 Coffee)</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>STAMINA [Challenging: Success] - </b>Start with where you’ve been before. That’ll help you pick up the threads.</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“I had a dream,” your voice comes out ragged. You grip your nails into your palm. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Mm. About that Ingerlund woman? Dora?” he reaches to the adjacent side-table, pawing around until his hand finds the pack of cigarettes.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Ingerlund? Who’s that?"</b></li>
<li>- “It was about my ex-wife.”</li>
<li>- “It was more than that. I’ve done something awful.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Some chick who fucked you over, bad." he steals a glance to Kim, then appears to decide against the cigarettes, "Before my time. Six years ago, maybe?"</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] - </b>He’s heard all this before. Multiple times. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Okay, but -- who was she?”</b></li>
<li>- “Did we do mathematics together?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“God, I don’t know, Harry. You get talking about the pale, or her work -- it all runs together with you. She worked on entroponetics engineering. Fucking clever as all hell, from where she ended up, some military tech company in Graad,” he runs a hand along the scars on his face, his eyes flickering to Kim and back. “You formed a real spiritual connection with how smart being with her made you feel. One you never truly recovered from.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Six years. I clearly need to win her back…”</li>
<li><b>- “Six years. I clearly need to get over her…” </b></li>
<li>- “I don’t know what to think about this.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“That’s what I’ve been --” he huffs, stopping himself with a glance to Kim, “Not worth getting into. You’d need a forensic psychiatrist to deal with that shit. You can see why we’re not serious.” he adds to Kim. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Hm. Yes, I, too, make a habit of knowing the coffee habits and the internal strife of partners who I have no intention whatsoever of seeing again.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He coughs around the sip of coffee, "Listen, I--" </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Relax, Jean. You can call this as you like, it won’t change the result we have to work with, nor the professionalism outside of this room,” At this, he glances at you, severe enough in the tilt of the eyebrow.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Give him finger-guns. “We’ll be cool.”</b></li>
<li>- “Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t blown the whole thing.”</li>
<li>- “Professionalism? What’s that?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Sure. You were telling us about your dream, though? Was it just that?” he draws up his legs onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. His feet are still bare. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Jean waves it off, his cheeks still flushed, “It’s old news, trust me. He has these about once a week.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Tell them what you know.</li>
<li><b>- (Lie) “Yeah, I guess so.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He stares at you a beat longer, taking a sip of his coffee. “...or. Was it different, this time?”</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Trivial: Success]- </b>Shit! He knows. He knows….</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “How the hell did you know?”</b></li>
<li> - Tell them what you know. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He stares at you, tight-lipped and all intensity, “Way you said it. What was it? Did it have to do with --?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Tell them what you know.</b></li>
<li>[Conjecture: Impossible - RED] - Make up a lie Jean will believe. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“It was -- her, my ex, yeah. But the dream was at a church. Grey and falling apart, with a stained glass window. On the edge of nowhere. ” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>His brow furrows, his attention entirely on you, “That broken-down Dolorian wreck you kept staring at when we drove into the Whirling?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Fuck. it was at the Whirling. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”</li>
<li><b>- “The site of the imminent swallowing of the world.”</b></li>
<li>- “The stage for the disco inferno…”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Okay, enough with the End is Now paper bag man routine, what the fuck happened?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I tried to impart myself with entroponetic mathematics wisdom.”</li>
<li><b>- “I gave myself brain damage from the Pale. On purpose.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“That’s impossible. The pale isn’t even close to where we are -- the closest Porch puts six thousand miles of sea between us,” he says with certainty bordering on intensity.</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b>He’s almost reassuring himself, as well as you.  </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Harrier -- this isn’t. You don’t mean --” his eyes are wide now, the breath heavy with stuck words, “Why am I fucking considering this, the swallow shit -- that’s crazy.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Swallow, yeah. Like the sound was eaten up from the center of the church.”</li>
<li><b>- “Swallow. The pale, metastazing…”</b></li>
<li>- “Swallow. The onslaught of the disco, rising…”</li>
<li>- “Swallow. Oh god. It swallowed me. I deserved it.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Those are just a rumor -- Paradox B shit, even when you talked about it, you said it was probably crank bullshit. You said -- shit, and you found one? You *exposed* yourself to it?”</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] - </b>An article’s worth of grim statistics flickers behind his eyes, smaller minds than yours that withered into irradiated corpses, or went mad with the connotations of the infinite, all because they fancied they had Luukanen-Kilde’s chance with the Pale. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I barely remember doing this.”</b></li>
<li>- “What do you know about the swallows?”</li>
<li>- “How am I going to do my talk?”</li>
<li>- “Why am I *like* this?”</li>
<li>- “I guess all I can do is try to move forward.” [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Fucking hell, shitkid,” his words cut off in a strangled noise, and then you’re lurching forward, warm muscle crushing you bone tight, “What the fuck. What the. Fuck.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Pat his back awkwardly.</li>
<li><b>- [Clarity: Challenging - RED] Try to say something reassuring. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>CLARITY [Challenging: Failure] - </b>As mathematicians, the truth, as clear as possible is always the right choice.</p><p><b>PASSION - </b>Yes -- wait, no, what?</p><p><b>YOU - </b>"I...could have died, right? That could have happened?” your eyes latch on to a crack running through the ceiling. It’s difficult to move. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>"Fuck you, you can't -- you're not leaving me alone with this shitkid, I --” his breath, close to your ear, hoarse with emotion -- then just as suddenly his warmth is torn away, his face hidden from you as he scrapes the hair off his forehead, trying to even out his breathing. </p><p>He’s still got his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Did I ...want to die?”</b></li>
<li>- “I think I believed living without finding Truth was worthless. And that I was.”</li>
<li>- “I don’t know why I did that.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You don’t get to do that though. You don’t,” he says it with a ferociousness that’s almost violent under his thick Revacholian accent. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I don’t mean to interfere, but --”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“By all means, please *fucking* interfere,” he glares at you. Still holding onto your wrist like it’s a lifeline. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Harry -- whatever caused this in you, or however it was caused by you is less important than what you’re going to do to recover. What are your thoughts on that?”</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] - </b>He asks with the same intonation he would use on a disheartened student, convinced that there is no way out of the winding problem laid before them. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] - </b>He wants to help you. But mainly, he wants to see you be helped. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You’re...saying I should get help, right?”</b></li>
<li>- “I don’t want to be this kind of animal anymore.”</li>
<li>- “I think our work is more important than I am.” </li>
<li>- “I don’t know what to think.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>He laces his fingers, studying you with the same intensity he gave the blackboard when you worked, “Is that what *you* want?” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Yes. I don’t want to be this kind of animal anymore.”</b></li>
<li>- “Sure. If it helps the work. That’s the only thing that’s important.” </li>
<li>- “I don’t know what to think.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You’ve said shit like that before,” he murmurs quietly, almost shifting away from your touch. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “And you stayed?”</li>
<li><b>- “Did I do...something like this before?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“No,” he  “That’s not as reassuring as you think it is, shitkid. But sure. Yeah. You should get help.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b>He’s gotten you ‘help’ before-- not that it made a difference.</p><p><b>STAMINA [Medium: Success] - </b>You put other things first, at the end of the day. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I barely remember doing this.”</li>
<li><b>- “What do you know about the swallows?”</b></li>
<li>- “How am I going to do my talk?”</li>
<li>- “Why am I *like* this?”</li>
<li>- “I guess all I can do is try to move forward.” [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VIQUEMARE - </b>“Not a whole fucking lot,” he sighs heavily, running a hand over his face, “And even then, most of it was from you, when you were high out of your mind, or crying about Ingerlund. I couldn’t sort out where the real entroponetics ends and the crank shit started. Obviously it was more real than I thought.”</p><p>“Never mind, uh -- do you know anything about it?” he shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks red as he turns to Kim. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b> He’s reminding himself that -- Kim did ask, before you got into this. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI</b> <b>- </b>He shakes his head, his gaze steady on Jean, “I’m afraid not. Entroponetics is very much not my field. We’ll have to consult an expert.”</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] - </b>He makes a point of *not* dwelling on it too much. Too many minds drawn in to passionately debate those that buy into the mysticism -- or worse, fall prey to it just the same. </p><p><b>YOU - </b>And I’m both?</p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>.... unfortunately, correct :-( </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I barely remember doing this.”</li>
<li>- “What do you know about the swallows?”</li>
<li><b>- “How am I going to do my talk?”</b></li>
<li>- “Why am I *like* this?”</li>
<li>- “I guess all I can do is try to move forward.” [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You’re asking *that* right now? After remembering you gave yourself suicidal brain damage?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Sure, the math is what’s important, right?”</li>
<li><b>- “You’re counting on me though, aren’t you?”</b></li>
<li>- “You’re right, this is stupid.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“That’s considerate, but -- Jean is right. You should focus on finding a specialist, someone who can...confirm or examine the theories of your memory loss,” his hand tracks to the notebook tucked in his jacket, almost instinctively before he lets it drop.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “So I... don’t do the talk? After everything people are saying?”</b></li>
<li>- “Okay, I won’t do the talk…” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b> “People will always talk,” he pauses, “Though -- I suppose the way it reflects on Ecole Normale might have far-reaching consequences for you and Jean.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Fuck. I didn’t want to say it but --  I guess you know from running around that people are expecting a lot.”</p><p>“A result like this, though -- the talk doesn’t have to be that good, just write our notes on the board…” he trails off, scratching at the scars on his cheek. </p><p><b>DEBATER [Easy: Success] - </b>The result *is* good, but the question period will rip at the bones of the work like vultures. This is a bold claim the three of you are making. </p><p><b>CLARITY [Challenging: Failure] - </b>I...don’t know that I’m *sure* we can make the proof understood.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Okay. I’ll try to fake it. I guess that’s what I’ve always been doing.”</li>
<li><b>- “What if Jean gave the talk instead?”</b></li>
<li>- “What if Kim gave the talk instead?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Me? You know I don’t --” he stops himself, "No, that's right. You don't know." </p><p><b>CITATION [Trivial: Success] - </b>You *cannot* back down and let your post-doctor do your talk! What would your esteemed colleagues say?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- "Know what?" </b></li>
<li>- [Citation: Impossible - RED] Make them believe you can do the talk.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>"You know what, it doesn’t matter. Alright, shitkid. If you can handle passing the talk off to me-- I'll do it."</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>"That does seem the most fair compromise. Of course let me know if I can be of any assistance.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah, I’ll probably pull you away to compare notes tonight if you’re free,” he catches Kim’s eye, rubbing a mark on the side of his neck sheepishly. Kim nods.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>[L’Academie: Medium - WHITE] - What don’t you *know* about Jean giving the talk?</b></li>
<li>- “Okay, that’s settled then.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK FAILURE</b>
</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Failure] - </b>Uhm. Gosh. I don’t know. Did you two get together after a talk? Is this some kind of.... Teacher...postdoctor...thing?</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“So. Do we have like, a teacher-postdoctor thing?” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“What the fuck does that mean? We’re...colleagues with benefits. You’re not my boss, just someone I work with,” he glares at you, fishing his discarded shirt off the floor.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>[Mentor: Medium - LOCKED] - What don’t you *know* about Jean giving the talk?</li>
<li><b>- “Okay, that’s settled then.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>"Yeah," he's studying you with confusion, his shirt rumpled on his knee. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I barely remember doing this.”</li>
<li>- “What do you know about the swallows?”</li>
<li>- “How am I going to do my talk?”</li>
<li><b>- “Why am I *like* this?”</b></li>
<li>- “I guess all I can do is try to move forward.” [Proceed]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Years of insecurity, run rampant, I suppose? Our field has its own issues. Khm,” he shifts on the bed, tucking his knees underneath him, “I shouldn’t theorize.”  </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Nah, that’s about right. Circling the fucking drain of it, more like,” he mumbles, his eyes haunted, “Just. Maybe I did mean what I said last night. Work less, shitkid. Fucking -- anything else, fuckit, start studying that art shit again.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Art shit?”</b></li>
<li>- “Yeah, you’re right.”</li>
<li>- “I don’t know who I am without...this.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You told me that once, when you were drunk. That you studied art history your first year of undergrad, before Dora talked you into switching your major,” he goes quiet, slipping a warm hand on your knee under the blankets. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] - </b>He laughed at you, when you told him -- now he wishes he hadn’t. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You don’t have to make that about math. You can just -- fucking have it as a hobby.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Maybe focusing on something else will be good for me.”</li>
<li><b>- “I barely remember math though…”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Annie Elbers, you mentioned, yes? Some things you still remember about it, then,” he says it gently. Jean stares at him with open wonder. </p><p>
  <b>MORALE +1</b>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I barely remember doing this.”</li>
<li>- “What do you know about the swallows?”</li>
<li>- “How am I going to do my talk?”</li>
<li>- “Why am I *like* this?”</li>
<li><b>- “I guess all I can do is try to move forward.” [Proceed]</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“That sounds wise, at least for the moment. One step at a time,” he slips off the bed, checking the digital watch on his wrist, “We should leave in about half an hour. I think there’s a Frittte on the corner if you want to pick something up before we go.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Freshen up in the bathroom.  </b></li>
<li>- Go to the Frittte. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CRAMPED MOTEL ROOM BATHROOM - </b>You gather your clothes from where they were tossed and duck into the dimly lit room with the grey tile.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Search around the room. </b></li>
<li>- Take a shower.</li>
<li>- [Physical Maintenance: Godly - WHITE] Shave your face.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PEELING BATHROOM COUNTER</b> <b>- </b>You search underneath the sink for something that might help you clean yourself up. Underneath the rust-riddled pipe your hand finds a beat up novel, the back cover missing. You also find a brightly labeled metal cylinder with a smiling man emblazoned on it. </p><p><b>Item Acquired: </b>Dick Mullen and the Mistaken Identity, Dusty Bottle of Shaving Cream</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Success] - </b>You know. Somehow I feel the smile of that shaved man is misleading.... </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Take a shower.</b></li>
<li>- [Physical Maintenance: Godly - WHITE] Shave your face. (+1 Shaving cream)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CRAMPED MOTEL ROOM BATHROOM - </b>You let the spray of water rinse off the crust of sleep and sex from the night before. You don’t linger too long-- after all, you did wash when you got in. Just long enough for the steam to settle in you, help you feel more alive.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Medium: Success] - </b>You’re ready to *be* a doctor, mathematician, professor. </p><p><b>PASSION - </b>You always were. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Linger in the cooling steam.</li>
<li><b>- Listen in on Kim and Jean. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>Giving your body a quick dry off and gathering up your clothes, you creep closer to the door, straining your ears to catch the shifting movement behind the thin walls, the murmur of conversation.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Well -- I wouldn’t have pegged you for stupid, but -- “</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Is it so difficult to believe? I know what I’m looking for from -- longtime experience. It’s rarer than you seem to think.” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Give it enough time, you’ll see. We’re quasi-amicable on a good day; the rest of the time, I dunno, a total fucking disaster.”</p><p><b>PRIORS [Medium: Success] - </b>Quasi-amicable numbers are two positive integers such that the sum of the proper divisors of either number is one more than the value of the other number. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Quasi-amicable numbers, also known as betrothed numbers?” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“...fucking. Walked into that one, I shouldn’t talk to number theorists. Or I should talk to more.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Well. I’ll take that offer, then.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Interrupt them. </b></li>
<li>- Stay cool. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“Talking about me?” you breeze out of the bathroom, now clothed and running the thin towel through your dripping hair before tossing it on the floor. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“No,” he arches an eyebrow over a smile, “Will that be a problem?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You sure? I’m a very interesting topic.”</li>
<li><b>- “Nah, there are more interesting problems to talk about. Let’s roll.”</b></li>
<li>- “Not sure I believe you, but I can roll with it.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I couldn’t agree more. Oh, hold on a moment,” he steps in front of Jean’s path, adjusting the deep blue tie around his neck, “Dr. Vicquemare.” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Dr. Kitsuragi," he scratches the back of his head, his gaze lingering on Kim, "Are you like this with everyone you pick up?”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Absolutely not,” he arches one eyebrow with a smile, “Only those that put up such a good fight at Suzerainty.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- [Calculator: Medium - RED] - Come up with a clever retort. </b></li>
<li>- Head out for the ride back to the conference (Proceed)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>CALCULATOR [Medium: Success] - </b>Odd man out. </p><p><b>ALGEBRA - </b>Though -- here’s an interesting fact, all betrothed numbers that we’re aware of have opposite parity.</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“Shit, I guess that makes me the odd man out, then,” you flash a grin to Kim, “Though -- betrothed numbers have opposite parity, don’t they?”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -  </b>“You smooth eavesdropping motherfucker. Come on, let’s get out of here.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Head out for the ride back to the conference (Proceed)</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>The sunshine above you feels equal parts ironic and heartening. After the pale -- all the damage done by your own hand -- here you still are, going to see talks about mathematics. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] - </b>You’re not going alone this time. You’re with colleagues.</p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION - </b>Colleagues, is *that* what we’re calling it?</p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>You heard Kim. We *will* maintain our composure. </p><p><b>PRISTINE COUPRIS KINEEMA WINDOW - </b> The ride back to Cycle is somehow both tense and comfortable at once. You sketch patterns that you can’t see on the window -- the sunshine means that there’s little you can see directly, but your mind seems to fill in the gaps. </p><p><b>Interact with Item: </b>Dick Mullen and the Mistaken Identity</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Getting some...hobby reading done?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Wonder what it would be like if I was a detective.”</b></li>
<li>- “I’m just skimming it.”</li>
<li>- “Sure, something other than math, right?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE -</b> “You pull the shit you do as a cop, someone loses their kneecaps. Or worse,” he taps his fingers in absence of an ever present cigarette, “You’d probably be no worse than the RCM already is, though.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I thought about joining them quite seriously, once,” Kim’s eyes are focused on the road, his hands shifting the mechanical levers with ease.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“No shit?” he leans back in the back seat consideringly, “Shadow-shill for the Moralintern…”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“I also consider myself a moralist,” he pauses, letting that little bombshell settle, before adding, “For the purpose of grant proposals.”</p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Trivial: Success] - </b>Virtually all funding from scientific grants in Revachol is supplied by the coalition. Lucky for you, sweetie, this affects mathematicians a little less than say, people looking to run huge experiments.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Don’t we all, Kits,” he snorts. Kim’s eyes flicker to his, but the moment passes. </p><p><b>DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - </b>The story opens with a knock at the door. Detective Dick Mullen is greeted by an old friend, Charlie Spillane, who's come to Mullen to ask a favour on this dark and cold night...</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>. </p><p>. </p><p><b>DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - </b>When Mullen comes to, Deneuve is dead on the hostel bed next to him. To make matters worse, his clothes are covered with her blood!</p><p><b>YOU - </b>Double fuck!</p><p><b>DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - </b>Mullen trashes his blood-stained clothes and flees the hostel, knowing it's only a matter of hours before the cops discover Deneuve's body, if they haven't been tipped off already...</p><p><b>RAIN SPATTERED COUPRIS KINEEMA WINDOW - </b>You raise your eyes, turning the page to -- nothing. Part of the book has been torn out by its previous owner. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Shit. Now I’ll never know who did it…”</b></li>
<li>- “Hey have either of you read Dick Mullen?”</li>
<li>- [Conjecture: Godly - RED] Reason out whodunnit.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“If it’s any consolation, the resolution is almost never very satisfying,” he turns the MC smoothly in the direction of Cycle’s grey stone buildings. </p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Success] - </b>Wow. Trying to figure something out that *isn’t* math...I forgot what this was like….</p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>I thought Thursday’s talks were good, though :) </p><p><b>ALGEBRA - </b>DeMettrie’s talk on L-functions! It was great to hear about K-Theory again!</p><p><b>ANALYSIS - </b>That had something for everyone! </p><p><b>APPLICATION - </b>Not *everyone*... </p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>I’m just glad we were able to follow it, after everything. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Jean sits beside you in the back of the car this time. He has his eyes fixed distantly out the window, the notes the three of you made last night safely tucked in his cloak. His left hand is gripped tightly to his knees. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b>Resisting his nervous ticks. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Squeeze his hand.</b></li>
<li>- Head in to the Mercator building (Proceed)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“M’okay, shitkid,” his grey-green eyes are soft when he turns to you, “Just a talk, right?”</p><p><b>CITATION [Easy: Success] - </b>*Just* a talk making progress on a key problem that’s been open for almost fifty years!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Big deal result, though.”</li>
<li>- “It’s a big deal because you’re representing *me*.” </li>
<li><b>- “Yeah, you’ve got this.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah,” he pulls you out of the car with him before letting go of your hand, glaring up at the dripping sky and pursing his lips. </p><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING - </b>There’s an excited hush in the lobby. Yours is the first talk on Friday morning -- and still people think it’s worth the early slog for. You can tell from the murmurs coming from the heavy lecture hall doors that most people are inside. The few mathematicians lingering by the coffee table hustle towards the hall when they see you enter. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“It’s about time to go in. Are you ready?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I could get used to the way you ask me that.”</b></li>
<li>- “Born ready, baby.”</li>
<li>- “As ready as an amnesiac about to fake his way out of a talk can be.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>He shakes his head, a smile playing on the corner of his lips, “I’ll take that as a yes. And you, Jean?” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah. This is all -- surreal. Fuck. Let’s do this.”</p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL - </b>There are more people at this conference than even you realized -- every row except the front is populated, some academics scribbling in notebooks, the miasma of coffee hanging over the room. A few perk up when they see you enter. </p><p><b>TRANT HEIDELSTAM - </b>In the back corner, Dr. Heidelstam waves excitedly. Mik, Cuno and Cunoesse are scribbling diligently on paper beside him, occasionally craning their necks at each others’ sheets. </p><p><b>LOCAL ORGANIZER JERRY LEFITTE - </b>“If everyone is settled, welcome to the final day of our illustrious conference. You can call me Tommy, I’ll be your chair for today’s talks. Here to speak to us this morning is one of our keynotes. Please give a warm welcome to Dr. Harry du Bois, de l'Ecole Normale.”</p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL - </b>The perfunctory applause propels you forward, away from your companions and towards the vast blackboard and the wooden podium. </p><p><b>CLARITY [Easy: Success] - </b>This is it. It’s not going to get any easier than this. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Look to Jean and Kim. </li>
<li>- Look around the room.</li>
<li><b>- Step up towards the podium. (Proceed)</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>OLD WOODEN PODIUM - </b>The applause as you walk up dulls in your ears. The podium waits for you, bearing the Cycle Universite crest, REVACHOL FOREVER emblazoned underneath. The sides are chipped, marked by years of use, rough handling up flights of stairs from building to building. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Trivial: Success]- </b>Someone has scrawled a smile on the inside of the right hand corner. :-) </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Just gesture towards Jean and leave.</li>
<li><b>- Pat the podium. </b></li>
<li>- [Professor: Challenging - RED] - Give a good introduction to the talk (+4 Helped Jean and Kim talk through their notes)</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>OLD WOODEN PODIUM - </b>The worn oak resonates back. It seems happy. Its happiness helps you face the sea of expectant faces surrounding you. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Just gesture towards Jean and leave. </li>
<li>- Pat the podium.</li>
<li><b>- [Professor: Challenging - RED] - Give a good introduction to the talk (+1 Patted the podium, +4 Helped Jean and Kim talk through their notes)</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Challenging: Success] - </b>You know what? For the first time in a while, it’s nice to *not* be giving a talk :-) . But never mind. You know what to do. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE - </b>Just for the love of god, use everyone’s titles for once. </p><p><b>YOU - </b>“I hate to disappoint, or maybe it’s a relief for all of you -- but I’m not going to be giving the talk I had planned. Not that there was much of a plan. The good news is, the result you’re about to see is incredibly impressive -- and work that this conference helped produce.”</p><p>The words flow out of you, an old rhythm that you thought you’d lost many years ago -- stumbling on lectures that came out too fast and slow at once. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Why was that?</b></li>
<li>- Finish the introduction.  </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION [Easy: Success] - </b>Erdos syndrome. You did a lot of your more impressive talks on speed. </p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>It helped the nerves, even if it hurt the coherence of your discussion. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Finish the introduction. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“But this story is not going to be told by me, this time. So please, give your applause again for Dr. Jean Vicquemare, my colleague and longtime collaborator. You’ll be hearing about a proof of Mohanty’s Lemma, which was joint work, completed on Wednesday of this week, with myself, and Dr. Kim Kitsuragi, one of the local organizers here at Cycle.” </p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL - </b>At the mention of the words ‘Mohanty’s Lemma’, a whisper goes through the participants, some shifting in their chairs, many watching Jean’s approach with renewed intensity. A few of their eyes follow you as you return to your seat. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Thank you for that generous introduction -- I know that’s a bold claim, so I’ll get right to it. Let K be a number field, and define...”</p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL - </b>You watch the familiar words and symbols take form on the board, each line more and more comforting. When Jean pauses to explain the transition between Kim’s work and yours, a new understanding settles through you. </p><p><b>MENTAL MANIFOLD [Easy: Success] - </b>The étale K-algebras you scrawled with desperate instincts on the board two days ago unfold in your mind -- this time as a series of points, alternating in black and white, and their twin opposite, branching out into another structure. </p><p><b>TOY MODEL - </b> <em> Dessin d’enfants. </em>So simple. So pretty!</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>In some sense, your postdoctoral fellow does make it look like child’s play -- the words even on the blackboard, the small examples the three of you worked out in a haze of cigarette smoke on the motel bed elegant and clear. Outwardly, Jean’s presentation is calm and steady. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Easy: Success] - </b>He’s shaking in those beat-up black leather shoes, actually. But he’s doing well. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- How can I tell?</li>
<li><b>- How can I help?</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MENTOR - </b>You can’t; not now. You’ve done all you can. Just let him work. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Flash Jean a smile. </b></li>
<li>- [Conjecture: Godly - RED] Come up with the next big thing while watching his talk.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>When Jean brushes a hand through his hair, checking understanding for the next example, you catch his eye and wink, he pauses for a moment, delivering the next line of reasoning while looking you in the eye before turning back to the board. </p><p><b>SYNTHESIS [Easy: Success] -</b> Algebraic number theory with analytic insights -- exactly the kind of braid this conjecture needed. </p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - </b>What was always needed -- to look at the problem with newborn eyes, as a beautiful piece of abstraction on a canvas. A fresh perspective</p><p><b>PASSION [Easy: Success] - </b> Maybe what you needed was many. </p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL - </b>There is notable less shifting, glazed eyes and quiet murmurs in the room, compared to Thursday’s talks. Almost everyone is riveted, following the very lines that Jean himself added when he stormed into that classroom two days ago...</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>This time, when he draws the gravestone, it’s in four careful strokes, with all the certainty the motion deserves. He looks up, tired but -- ready to face what’s coming. </p><p><b>VAST AND UNCOMFORTABLE LECTURE HALL -</b> The applause is immediate. Enthusiastic, even. It takes nearly half a minute to die down, Jean standing dazed and nodding as he steps away from the board. </p><p><b>LOCAL ORGANIZER JERRY LEFITTE - </b>“Do we have any questions for Dr. Vicquemare? Feel free to introduce yourself if you’re not local.” </p><p><b>WIZENED OLD MAN - </b>“Jules Pidieu, Academie Zsiemsk. Thank you, that was -- a much more exciting talk than I was prepared for. I’m curious, was Prescod’s Conjecture considered as a direction for the proof?” </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] - </b>Pidieu has an active correspondence with many Revacholian mathematicians. He’s something of an amateur radio expert, able to relay experimental transmissions through the pale in collaboration with Graadian physicists. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“My work on the problem came together quickly, in fact-- but my collaborator, Dr. Kitsuragi, can comment on his earlier work trying to apply the Prescod Conjecture to the problem.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Yes -- in short, it doesn’t work. The reasons can be summarized very briefly as ‘no existing homomorphisms to the symmetric group’, but I’m happy to go over my notes on it with you during the break.”</p><p><b>JULES PIDIEU - </b>“Thank you. Sounds very insightful. An impressive result nonetheless.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Give finger guns to Jean before the next question. </b></li>
<li>- Stay cool while he fields the questions. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>You make an encouraging gesture as soon as he glances in your direction. His cheeks go slightly pink, but he’s quickly waylaid by another enthusiastic question.</p><p>You realize that there’s a familiar figure slouching towards you. </p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“Du Bois,” he jerks his head towards the door, “Got some questions of my own.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Glare pointedly and stay where you are. </li>
<li><b>- Slip out the back door and see what he has to say. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING EXTERIOR - </b>There is absolutely no one milling about in the lobby of the lecture hall -- everyone who is part of the conference is packed inside, rapt in their responses to the proof you were a part of. </p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>He lurches towards the coffee table without making a remark to you yet, pouring himself a cup of copy with a generous helping of sugar.</p><p><b>STAMINA [Trivial: Success] - </b>His eyes are red, blinking furiously at the sunlight filtering in from the skylight. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL IMMERSION - </b>Party boy. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “What, are you hungover?”</b></li>
<li>- “Okay, what questions?”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“Hah, hah, Dr. Sober,” he squints at you, “You really are...sober today huh?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Figured it would be a bad idea to do any more damage.”</li>
<li>- “Jean told me to.”</li>
<li><b>- “I’m trying some new methods.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“No fucking kidding,” he sips the coffee, “Why’d you let Vic take the thunder for your proof? I could see the Galois extensions, that had your style all over it.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I actually have self-induced amnesia from the Pale.”</li>
<li>- “Just figured people had heard enough from me.”</li>
<li><b>- “It was collective work we did at the conference. Probably about time he got credit for it.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“*Collective* work,” he repeats with a mocking air.</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“Sure, Kim laid the groundwork and did a lot of the major heavy lifting. You spotted my contributions, and then Jean picked it up when we got stuck.” </p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“Kim? Who now?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Dr. Kitsuragi? The one we were at dinner with?”</b></li>
<li>- “The Seolite guy in the front row?”</li>
<li>- “You know, the binoclard in the orange jacket.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“Oh right, the Students’ Free guy…” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You never… work *with* anyone, do you?” </b></li>
<li>- “He helped us prove the conjecture, so…” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“First and *only* author on what I write--” he takes a swarthy drink of coffee and almost chokes on it. He squints once he gets his breath back, “Didn’t that use to be how you did things?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Did it?”</li>
<li><b>- “I can’t imagine I get as far without Jean.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“Sure, you and your little --”</p><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“Excuse me, Dr. Du Bois?” A man with shoulder-length grey hair and a neat pink shirt is staring at you eagerly. Behind him, is the woman in the wheelchair you crashed into in your earlier episode. </p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Medium: Success] - </b>Hm, no name tags. I’m not sure these two are *part* of the conference, thinking on it….</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Yes, that is me, a doctor.”</b></li>
<li>- “Sorry, Dr. Du Bois isn’t in right now.”</li>
<li>- “That’s Rockstar Du Bois to you, sir.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“Excellent, such an honor to speak with you, sir, such an honor! And in the wake of such an impressive result, I can’t tell you how excited I am to share my own work with you.” </p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>Your colleague mouths ‘good luck’ to you mockingly and slips back into the room, leaving you cornered by the wild-eyed man and his companion. </p><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>He gestures excitedly “My new theorem, regarding these so-called unsolvable quintic equations that your Galois theory has blown the problem wide open. The next conference will be about Phasmodic antitone connections, without a doubt!”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Whoa, slow down.”</li>
<li><b>- “Phasmodic ...what now?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“If I could have a moment of your time, I promise, it’s no more controversial than non-Euclidean geometry.”</p><p><b>CLARITY [Trivial: Success] - </b>… that’s not controversial at all? What does that even mean?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Non-Euclidean geometry makes sense, though.”</li>
<li>- “Okay, define your Phasmid.” </li>
<li><b>- I don’t have time for this. [Leave]</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b> You attempt to step around the excitable man, but he simply shifts where he is, talking at you rapid-fire. The topics move so quickly you can barely parse the words, let alone figure out how they’re connected. </p><p><b>CLARITY [Medium: Success] - </b>In case you’re wondering, this is exactly what you sound like to your undergraduate students.</p><p><b>CITATION - </b>Yes but we’re *right*.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You’re wrong about all this and it’s total nonsense. Let me leave.”</li>
<li><b>- “Whatever you’re saying doesn’t make any sense to me.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“You understand, I’m showing you something completely extraordinary. You could miss out on a mathematical revolution. You could be the next visionary. What do you think?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “What *are* you showing me, though?”  </b></li>
<li>- “I think who I am has to be enough. An incredibly sensitive instrument.”</li>
<li>- “I think this is the kind of thinking that gave me brain damage.”</li>
<li>- “I think you’re a crackpot and should get out of my way.”</li>
<li>- “I think the best of my visions were just down to spitballing with talented colleagues.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“Why, the truth of course! That the academic establishment has so clearly overlooked. Yes, Phasmodic antitone connections and overlooked insights due to Mijanou are going to revolutionize the way mathematical thought happens. In fact, it will seem like before, we were living in the murk of the pale itself, after these results are understood and accepted. What do you think? Are you ready to take the leap and become the next visionary?”</p><p><b>CLARITY [Trivial: Success] - </b>Yeah, he’s just going to keep repeating the same words, adding other words that he won’t explain.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I think who I am has to be enough. An incredibly sensitive instrument.”</li>
<li>- “I think this is the kind of thinking that gave me brain damage.”</li>
<li>- “I think you’re a crackpot and should get out of my way.”</li>
<li><b>- “I think the best of my visions were just down to spitballing with talented colleagues.”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LENA, THE CRANK THEORIST’S WIFE - </b>“Oh well, I don’t know about talented, sweetie, but I’m glad to be part of Morell’s work.” </p><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“Work that you contribute worlds to, my dear. As could you, Doctor!” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Wait, wasn’t I supposed to be leaving? [Leave]</li>
<li>- Is that even going to be an option? [Leave]</li>
<li><b>- [Conjecture: Easy - RED] Distract them!</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>CONJECTURE [Easy: Success] - </b>This man’s true goal is to get your office phone number. </p><p><b>YOU - </b>“I’d like to speak with you about this but -- not here. The ideas might be too disco.”</p><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>“Disco, you say?”</p><p><b>YOU - </b>“It’s my own theory. Why don’t I give you my office phone number, you can call anytime?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Write down what you think is your office phone number.</li>
<li>- Write down any string of numbers that come to mind.</li>
<li><b>- Write down the first 10 digits of Euler’s number. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“I think you’ll find these numbers auspicious.”</p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>This poor man will not. But hey, he looks like he’s not trying to back you into a corner anymore. </p><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>He snatches the number from your hand. "Couldn't be more pleased! If we could find a blackboard…."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>
<b>- “Not here! Not now! Soon.”</b> </li>
<li>- “Sorry, that’s actually Euler’s number. It’s not my number. </li>
<li>- “Come on, you don't recognize the most important transcendental number in differential calculus?"</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>LENA, THE CRANK THEORIST’S WIFE - </b>“Morell, we should probably get our phone reconnected, if we’re going to be taking calls.” </p><p><b>MORELL, THE CRANK THEORIST - </b>"Of course, of course," he mercifully allows himself to be ushered away, the piece of paper clutched in his hand. </p><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING - </b>During your confrontation, the attendees of the talk have been released into the lobby. Enthusiastic discussion pockets have formed, the atmosphere markedly more animated than the aftermath of any of the talks on Thursday. There’s an animated group surrounding Kim and Jean, though they’re starting to thin out to contemplate the talk or grab a second cookie. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- Push through the crowd to Kim and Jean. </li>
<li>- Get a cookie.</li>
<li><b>- Talk to someone else you recognize. </b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>Your eyes fall on the older man you met on your first day, the one Kim called Dr. Gottlieb. Even though he knows you, his glance is friendly as you take a step across the lobby towards him. </p><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“Well, Du Bois. You did it again, and you didn’t. Can’t say I’m disappointed it wasn’t your usual style, though,” he takes a sip of his coffee with a rueful grimace.  </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Thanks. I had help.”</li>
<li>- “Sorry. I guess I let the university down with that…”</li>
<li><b>- “Sometimes you get to be disco, and sometimes the disco gets you…”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“Hah. Sure, sure. I know what that’s like,” his eyes crinkle at the corners. He’s seen many theorems come and go. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Easy: Success] - </b>Maybe he can tell you what to make of the Navier-Stokes result….</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What’s an emeritus?”</li>
<li><b>- “What do you think about all this Navier-Stokes pale stuff?”</b></li>
<li>- Wander off to talk to someone else. [Leave]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“What do I think, now that people are going around saying my work is a useless cause?” he raises an eyebrow over his thick glasses, part amusement, part challenge, “I see you’re not telling me *how* to think about it today.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You might have heard I’m trying a few new methods."</b></li>
<li>- “Sorry, I don’t know why I said those things.”</li>
<li>- “Yes, I’m trying to be sober and not a jerk.” </li>
<li>- “Oh, I have some ideas about how you should think about it….” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“If it keeps you from passing out in my office right before I’m supposed to see those damn undergraduates, I’m all for it. But as for the result, I’m happy, of course.” </p><p><b>APPLICATION [Easy: Success] - </b>Happy? Depressing is what it is. How are we supposed to solve fluid flows now? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Happy?”</b></li>
<li>- “Oh, okay, I guess.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“Sure -- one more down, on to the next problem. Some people might not be satisfied with that answer, and I don’t like the rumors surrounding the methods. But Luukanen-Kilde’s proof was elegant and clear enough, and that’s all I can ask for. It didn’t change so much about my day to day -- after all, the applications of Hopf fibrations didn’t die with the hope for infinitely many smooth solutions.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I thought it changed everything…”</b></li>
<li>- “I thought it levelled the field. Completely destroyed it. </li>
<li>- “Oh, I guess it wasn’t a big deal at all then.” </li>
<li>- “I’m sorry I brought it up. I’m sorry it was proven. I’m sorry to be in this field.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“Well, yes and no. It’s not the first problem I’ve seen come and go. If you live long enough, hope you’ll see what I mean,” he stares at you for a moment before his words catch up to him, “Khm, that was grim. I mean -- you get to my age, lots of things get proven, but there’s always more work to do.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Sounds depressing.”</li>
<li><b>- “I’d like to get to that age someday.”</b></li>
<li>- “As long as our work immortalizes us.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>NIX GOTTLIEB - </b>“Hope so too. Keep at those...new methods,” he gives you a brisk nod, “I best get talking to our colleagues that came from far away to be here. Take care, du Bois.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Go talk to Kim and Jean. </b></li>
<li>- Get a cookie. </li>
<li>- Find someone else to talk to. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING - </b>The throng of excited academics has thinned around your collaborators; leaving the crowd from your pub outing the night before. Jean shifts from foot to foot, smiling but still radiating nervous energy. Kim seems pleased and relaxed, leaning against a nearby pillar with ease. </p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT - </b>“I’m really happy for you Jean. I know this talk means a lot to you.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Not how I imagined it happening but -- yeah, I guess it’s a long time coming. And it went all right, yeah?” he takes a careful sip of his coffee, still scanning the lobby for people who might pop a pointed question on them. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Exceptionally. We should have a fast turnover on the paper, there were very few questions pushing back on the proof.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- <b>[L’Academie: Medium - WHITE] - What don’t you *know* about Jean giving the talk? (+1 Gave him fingerguns at the talk, +3 Overheard Judit)</b>
</li>
<li>- Ask Judit about her thoughts on the talk.</li>
<li>- Give *your* opinion on the talk. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Medium: Success] - </b>The memory of four years ago, in a clean glass-and-metal building at the heart of Vredefort, surfaces in your consciousness. A younger man, scars still present on his cheeks, rumpled dress, sits hunched in the corner of a similar lobby on his second cigarette. The weight of a poorly delivered talk with a bloodbath of a question period lays heavy on his shoulders. </p><p>You however, know how to pick out the gems from the tangled mess of his speech. And you’re not about to let that go. So you tilt your neck, and take a seat next to him on the bright red leather bench.</p><p>“That was rough, but it’s probably not three cigarettes rough,” you say, lighting one of your own. </p><p>     “I don’t need your fucking pity,” the young man snaps, and then seems to immediately regret it. </p><p>     “Yeah, that’s not really my *thing*. I’m not sitting here because the answers come easily. I’m here because you have a good proof and did a shit job of explaining it.”</p><p>    “Thanks. And also fuck you,” he takes a drag of the cigarette. This man is beyond giving a shit. You’re not sure he knows who you are. Probably for the better. </p><p>    “You want to get a drink? I’ve got some notes on anabelian geometry, and I think you’re the only motherfucker here worth talking to about that.”</p><p>    He stares at you a moment. Maybe trying to figure out if you’re serious, or if you’re just throwing him a bone. “Fine. The hell have I got to lose? Um. Jean Vicquemare, by the way. Just a graduate student.”</p><p>    “Dr. Harrier du Bois. You can call me Harry, though,” you wink, giving him le Million’s brilliant smile. He stares. He knows your name. </p><p>    And don’t they all? </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He snaps his fingers at you, noticing you in your reverie, “Harrier -- you still in there?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I remembered -- the first time I saw you gave a talk.”</b></li>
<li>- “I remembered -- we worked on anabelian geometry together?”</li>
<li>- “Fine.” [Move on]</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He winces, “You can let that one stay forgotten, shitkid. I was a fucking mess.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Guess the tables have turned now.”</li>
<li><b>- “Well, you did great today. Was that ...your first since?”</b></li>
<li>- “Was?” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He scratches his cheek, “... yeah. Three years. Teaching your lectures helped.”</p><p><b>MENTOR [Challenging: Success] - </b>A lot of things about working with you helped -- some in healthier ways than others. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“This is your first postdoctoral position?” he asks curiously, “I’m not surprised it’s been lengthy, given how productive you were. You could probably make the transition to faculty without a second postdoc.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “See, even at *that* talk I knew your math was disco.”</b></li>
<li>- “People have to do TWO postdoctor gigs? Why?”</li>
<li>- “Obviously my clout did a lot for your career.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah. You had a lot of faith in me, god knows why," he attempts to smile at Kim, but it comes out as more of a grimace. </p><p><b>MENTOR [Trivial: Success] - </b>Remembering where he was before he met you is difficult for him.</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Speaking of postdoctoral positions, Judit, may I ask how close you are to graduation?”</p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT - </b>She blinks nervously, taking a sip of her coffee, “Me? Khm, ah. The dissertation is just waiting for revisions.”</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>He nods brusquely, seeming more at ease as he points at you, “That means you, shitkid. For when you get back.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I’ll get right on that, then.”</b></li>
<li>- “Sorry, how long has it been? Too long, right?”</li>
<li>- “Me? Do revisions? Doesn’t sound very disco.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“See that you do,” he nods crisply before turning back to Judit, “I’m going to have a position open soon, and I have a feeling there are a number of problems I’ve been working on that would interest you.” </p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>"Better watch it, Du Bois, or this guy is gonna poach Jude from you."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>[Repartee - Medium - RED] - Come up with a clever retort. </b></li>
<li>- “Sounds like a good opportunity for her.”</li>
<li>- “Cycle is a garbage institution, but a job is a job.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>REPARTEE [Medium: Success] - </b>Remember Kim’s collaborator? Dr. Alice DeMettrie? She’s got to be getting close to the end of her postdoc. </p><p><b>YOU - </b>"Fair's fair, I was going to do the same with DeMettrie.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>Your colleague adjusts his glasses with a small smile, "She's going to have a lot of bids for where she does her second postdoc. Luckily for you she'd like to stay in Revachol. Though. I'd say it would be in your interest to find her a permanent position."</p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>"Right, perma-postdoc is Vic's job," He sneers, taking a swig of his coffee. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>"Shut up McLaine. Talk big again a year from now.”</p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>“Hey, I can do that now, you want a second round of my talk? Or my questions after yours? You’re lucky I had shit to say to du Bois, but come on, let’s get into it.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>[Citation: Easy - RED] - Get McLaine to be quiet. </li>
<li><b>[L’Academie: Challenging - RED] - Divert him with a better use of his time. </b></li>
<li>- Let Jean deal with this. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p>
  <b>CHECK SUCCESS</b>
</p><p><b>YOU - </b>"You can bully Vic any day back at Ecole Normale. Why don't you talk to that guy who was asking all those questions at your talk yesterday?"</p><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>He squints in surprise, "I thought you were asleep for my talk." </p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>Well, you *were*, it just so happens that the guy asking the questions was...memorable. Frightening muscles for a topologist. </p><p><b>PHYSICAL MAINTENANCE - </b>A beautiful specimen….</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- "Come on, I'm sure he's less scary than he looks."</b></li>
<li>- "Your talk might have been a snooze-fest but clearly he saw something in it."</li>
<li>- "You're right, he's an idiot if he found that talk interesting." </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>CHESTER MCLAINE - </b>To your surprise, McLaine casts a nervous glance over his shoulder to the imposing man, and then nods once to you, scuttling off to offer an awkward handshake to the tall, bald man.</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>"Just like that, huh," he shakes his head, "Who knew you had enough clout to tell McLaine to fuck off for a few minutes."</p><p><b>CITATION [Easy: Success] - </b>Is he questioning your *clout*? You were always the most relevant person in this room!</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “Kim, didn’t you say I used to be scary?” </b></li>
<li>- “I’m full of clout, baby. Packing a punch.”</li>
<li>- “He’s not so bad.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“That was hearsay. But … maybe it was the ‘scary’ that made him dig in his heels. He knows what to expect from debating you. The devil you know,” he trails off, watching the handshake pass between McLaine and the muscled bald mathematician, “Still, it does go to show the kind of tone-setting tenured faculty can do. Much more easily than junior academics.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Huh. Guess I’ll throw that in the thought cabinet.”</li>
<li>- “Sounds mostly like a waste of time. Academia is a meritocracy.”</li>
<li><b>- “So I *am* tenured?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“This would be funny if it wasn’t so goddamn stupid,” his Vacholian accent comes out thick and intense as he stares at you, “Thank god Trant knew of an entroponetics doctor.”</p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>"Tangential, but I’ve been meaning to bring it up. There is an opening at Cycle for a tenure-track position. I'm not on the hiring committee -- so don’t worry about conflict of interest there. I do think you'd be an asset to the faculty, though,” he nods seriously in Jean’s direction. </p><p><b>PROFESSOR - </b>We could teach with Kim! :-) </p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>Don’t be silly. Jean is the one who needs a full-time position. </p><p><b>PASSION - </b>Jean is the one who has to leave us… </p><p>
  <b>MORALE -1</b>
</p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Shit, um. Yeah, I’ll think about that. Sounds good.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “So you are going to leave.”</li>
<li><b>- “You and Judit too…everyone is going.”</b></li>
<li>- Panic quietly.  </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Don’t -- listen, I’m not going anywhere,” he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. </p><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Khm. I’m going to take a moment to speak with the organizing committee," he adjusts his glasses, peering out into those still milling about.</p><p><b>PROFESSOR [Challenging: Failure] - </b>Exactly! He’s leaving too :-(</p><p><b>ADMINISTRATA [Easy: Success] - </b>Don’t you have him pencilled in for dinner tonight?</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “You’re still coming to dinner with us?”</b></li>
<li>- "You're leaving too Kim! Everyone is!" </li>
<li>- Panic, less quietly.</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>KIM KITSURAGI - </b>“Yes, I’d like that,” he tilts his head towards you with a quiet, fond smile before nodding once to Jean and leaving the two of you with Judit.</p><p><b>JUDIT MINOT - </b>Her gaze follows Kim as he leaves, glancing curiously back to you and Jean before smiling a little, “I should network a little bit too. Talk to you later, all right?” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“If I thought the rumors were bad before…” Jean exhales again, “Okay, um. Can we go outside a minute?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Let Jean take you outside.</b></li>
<li>- Make a scene and stay inside. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>“Sure, we’ve got time, don’t we?” </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Shit, yeah. I guess we do,” his fingers twitch towards you, but he leaves it there. You follow in his footsteps towards the door, sunlight now filtering in through the glassy double doors. </p><p><b>MERCATOR BUILDING EXTERIOR - </b>The air is heady with the smell of drying rain, the sunlight sweet and warm on the top of your head. Jean continues along the interlocked pavement, walking at a fast pace that seems natural to keep in step with. </p><p><b>CYCLE UNIVERSITE CENTRAL - </b>After a few minutes, he glances over his shoulder, the Mercator building now much smaller in the distance. He’s stopped by a bench that looks out on the seaside-facing west of campus. Gulls call out in the silence between you. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Right.” </p><p><b>PASSION [Godly: Failure] - </b>This is it. He’s going. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Look, you don’t have to make up reasons to go.”</li>
<li><b>- “Don’t make a big thing of it, Vic.” </b></li>
<li>- Let him speak. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Look -- don’t -- Just, I’m going to try to say it first,” he exhales, his eyes fixed on the horizon, “Before Wednesday I never -- brought up needing to find other work after my contract is up at Ecole Normale. I didn’t want to think about it. And to be fucking fair, most days you give me a lot more fires to put out, so I don’t think about it.” </p><p>“But I don’t know. I don’t -- want to stop working with you. No, I mean -- I don’t want to stop,” he stops, the words sticking in his throat. He stares up at the wisteria, just starting to crawl up the brick on of new buildings on this side of campus. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You want me to get over my ex, you mean?”</li>
<li><b>- “We’re not really just math-doctors with benefits, you mean?”</b></li>
<li>- “Okay, we can keep working together.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Guess that’s about the size of it. I don’t fucking ...know what to do with that, though.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Me neither.”</li>
<li><b>- “I guess we’ll find out.”</b></li>
<li>- “We should keep things casual.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You say that like it’s simple. Nothing’s ever been simple with you.” </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “You mean at work? </li>
<li>- “You mean the mathematics.”</li>
<li>
<b>- “I know. I don’t remember but -- I get that.” </b> </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah. yeah,” he finally turns to look at you, rolling his eyes before he takes your hand. </p><p><b>STAMINA [Challenging: Failure] - </b>What are you going to do without him…</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I don’t know how to be a mathematician.”</li>
<li><b>- “I don’t know how to be a tenured professor.”</b></li>
<li>- “I don’t want you to go.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You know Ecole Normale is your ship to steer, shitkid. Has been since I got there, much as I have to take the wheel from you sometimes,” his glance is serious but -- not unkind. </p><p><b>L’ACADEMIE [Easy: Success] - </b>There’s the weight of history in that confidence. At moments, you have been who the department needs you to be. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“So. I might not be around to do that, when I go -- but I’m -- not about to stop, I don’t know. Seeing you. Just. I don’t fucking know, don’t -- go off the rails like that again. You meant what you said to Kitsuragi?”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I did, yeah.”</b></li>
<li>- “I don’t really know what to do about getting help.”</li>
<li>- “I don’t want to get better. I changed my mind.”</li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE- </b>“Okay. Okay. Well I -- we can work with that. Or try to.”    </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “What about your career?”</li>
<li>- “What about our work, then?”</li>
<li><b>- “What about Kim?”</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>Jean shakes his head and smiles, the sunlight making him look almost young for a moment, “He wants to see us again, the crazy bastard. I don’t know -- I get the sense he’s interested in figuring us out.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “Math problems but make it people?”</li>
<li>- “I get the sense that not enough people take him seriously.”</li>
<li><b>- "I'd like to figure him out, to be honest."</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“Yeah. Fuck. Never thought I’d be that interesting to someone,” he turns his eyes up to this sky, searching the shapes of the clouds with the smile still on his lips. </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- “I might not remember it -- but I know you were to me.”</b></li>
<li>- “Makes sense to me. The disco magnetism…”</li>
<li>- “He probably likes that we proved a conjecture together.” </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>“You say a lot more stupid shit now that you’ve been brainfucked,” he pauses, staring at you a beat too long, “Don’t stop that.”</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li>- “I won’t.”</li>
<li><b>- Say nothing, just look out at the ocean.</b></li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>YOU - </b>You take a deep breath of the salty air. The conference -- mathematics itself -- seems distant. It’s just you, and the calluses of Jean’s hand, and the edge of Revachol, whispering back in the roll of the waves. </p><p><b>JEAN VICQUEMARE - </b>After a moment, he looks over his shoulder. Then slowly leans over, kissing the corner of your mouth. </p><p><b>PASSION [Medium: Success] - </b>Did you remember this? Did you forget it? </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <ol>
<li><b>- Am I going to do all right?</b></li>
<li>- I know this won’t last.</li>
<li>- I’m ready to be the rockstar I am. </li>
</ol>
</blockquote><p><b>L’ACADEMIE - </b>With your department? </p><p><b>SYNTHESIS - </b>With your cross-disciplinary mathematical insights? </p><p><b>CONCEPTUALIZATION - </b>With your rediscovered, dormant interests?</p><p><b>PASSION - </b>With Jean and Kim?</p><p><b>CLARITY - </b>With all of it. Will we do all right?</p><p><b>STAMINA - </b>There’s no proof for that. We’ll just have to see it through. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that’s a wrap &lt;3. Thank you so much for sticking it out through this story; there’s so much love in it. </p><p>This fic could not have been written without studying the dialogue lines of DE pretty closely. For this I had the help of the FAYDE Playback Experiment, a Disco Elysium dialogue browser. You can access an online version of that tool <a href="http://fayde.co.uk/">here</a>. </p><p>And now, for your chapter-specific liner notes. </p><p>The first MENTAL MANIFOLD check refers to a Klein bottle, a non-orientable surface in two dimensions (bit like a mobius strip, but a dimension up from that). You can watch a very enthusiastic video about that <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAsICMPwGPY&amp;ab_channel=Numberphile"> here.</a></p><p>This is sort of a lore-note for those new to the text; but the idea that Harry’s amnesia is sourced from the Pale is a popular reading of the text. I wanted to play with the idea that it was a deliberate move on his part (which other ficcers have also done quite well!)</p><p>Betrothed numbers are a real concept that I discovered while hopping around Wikipedia for this fic! I’m more using them for a joke than anything else, but it’s cute that they are number theory content. </p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dessin_d%27enfant">Dessins d’enfants</a>! I only heard about them in passing at a talk eons back, but I did find them charming. I’ve been sort of jumping off the implications that their proof involved Galois theory, so I was reaching for a visual way to describe some of those deeply abstract concepts. </p><p>Euler’s number! My favourite transcendental number! You might have run across it in high school about compound interest but I want it on record I think it’s more fun than pi :) </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hopf_fibration#Fluid_mechanics">Hopf Fibrations describe some of the few solutions of the Navier-stokes solutions we do know!</a></p><p> </p><p>This chapter was a long one to write, but at the end of the day, I’m really happy with the “conference” feel that getting so many voices in captured. And hey, if you were here for the shippy stuff, well &lt;3 there you have it. </p><p>A link to the skill sheet I came up with can be found <a href="https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1gPIybK_m-K20qM-FvfaVLt3OAphfw1pXK8IpxnGwvrg/edit?usp=sharing">here </a>. Of the skills, CLARITY is probably my favourite. A darling to write. </p><p>I might someday post that Kim/Jean/Harry explicit motel scene as an outtake, and if I ever do I’ll link it on the fic :) For now though, I have other little story worms to tackle. Thanks so much for staying with me on this; I hope you enjoyed it. As always, no matter when, kudos/comments are very welcome &lt;3</p>
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